


An Unlikely Source of Light.

by MCMystery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Kidnapping, Mentions of Breeding, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of Underage, Mentions of Violence and Death, Mentions of enslavement, mentions of rape/non-con, more tags may be added, premeditated murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 140,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23963863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCMystery/pseuds/MCMystery
Summary: Harry Potter is dead, Voldemort is victorious, and those that survive now have to live in this world.Draco is reintroduced to someone from his past, someone he long thought dead, and finds a most unlikely, and in many ways undesired, reason to keep living.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 35
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

[[[ So, for those unfamiliar with my other work, I like to write these little notes at that start. In my other, it's at the start of each chapter, though I don't think that will be the case in this one.

Basically, I like writing, and I have plans for this otherwise I wouldn't have started. I am, however, a busy person and there may be some delay between new chapters -- but new chapters will come. You can count on it.

Another thing to keep in mind, not all chapters are created equal. Some can and will be longer or shorter than others, depending on how much each chapter deserves.

This is a Dramione fic, and it may get a bit dark in places -- so if that isn't your cup of tea, just be aware.

As for canon concerns, I am more familiar with movie canon than book canon. Though I've read the books, it was some time ago. I envision Draco, Hermione, and all other canon characters as they appear in the movies. The fic is canon compliant up until the second half of the Battle of Hogwarts, that is where it diverges.

This work is not for profit, I make no money off of this. It's just a hobby. I am in no way affiliated, in any official sense, with the Harry Potter universe, and they are the property of their owners.

This work has been proofed, by me, but seeing as the eye tends to see what it expects, not what is actually there, there may be some mistakes. 

I have no alpha or beta readers, or any of that jazz.

Hope you enjoy. ]]]

**__________**

**Part One.**

_“Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.”_

__________

The handsome manor house rose from the picturesque Wiltshire landscape, four floors of stately home topped with soaring black spires. The long gravel driveway leading to the home bisected the grounds in front of the manor, with two large hedged gardens bordering the drive. Snow blanketed the grounds, and had begun building on the steep angled roofs that crowned the structure. Warm light spilled from many of the windows, but framed in one, on the second storey, was a thin figure, standing and looking out on the grounds.

Breathing steadily, goblet in hand, Draco looked out, watching as the light snowfall continued to gradually coat the grounds of his family home. Wearing a white button up shirt, black trousers, and impeccably polished dress shoes, he had discarded his suit jacket on the bed the moment he had entered his room. Slowly gyrating his wrist, causing the liquid in the goblet to swirl and further mix, his dark thoughts darkened still.

It had been seven months since what had come to be known as the Battle of Hogwarts. It had been seven months since the Boy Who Lived had died -- him and so many others. It hadn't taken long for the resentment Draco had felt for most of that time to blossom and burn him hollow as raw, rampant depression. He hated what had happened, he hated his part in it, he hated what he'd done, he hated his parents for allowing that psychopath to turn their son into a weapon, and he hated how weak he'd been -- how he'd simply allowed himself to be used, moulded, manipulated, and never once tried to think for himself.

He remembered back to the bathroom at Hogwarts, to the one chance he'd had a redemption. Nigh-emaciated, with a long dead muggle-born girl comforting him. He should have just quit then and there, fled or came forward to Dumbledore, but he hadn't. Now Dumbledore was dead, Potter was dead, so many people were dead and his hands were stained with it.

Voldemort had done as he claimed. He slaughtered any who opposed him, and when finally the survivors threw down their wands, he'd established his new order. He'd built Mudblood Relocation Camps, one in Wales, one in Scotland, and he -- using his puppet Ministry, had shipped all the muggle-borns there to be... Well, Draco didn't know... Didn't want to know.

Hogwarts had been rebuilt, and reorganized, it was less a school now and more an indoctrination and training camp, where children were taken and moulded into loyal, subservient soldiers.

He resurfaced from his thoughts and looked down at the contents of the fine crystal goblet in his hand. It hadn't been hard to source, especially not with the lessened restrictions since Voldemort had come to power, not that it was particularly difficult to find before hand -- a simple trip to Knockturn Alley, nothing that had aroused suspicion, and that was it. One vial of Bloodroot Poison. He'd mixed it with a generous splash of Cherry Liqueur, partly to make it easier to swallow, but also because, even broken, he still had standards. It would hurt, he was counting on it, he'd specifically chosen Bloodroot Poison because it hurt -- a lot, and in this dose, even if his parents came in the very moment he drank it, they wouldn't be able to save him.

He wasn't depressed anymore, or upset, or angry. That had all passed, vanished the moment he'd woken up that morning and committed himself to this course of action. It had been replaced by a sense of almost serene calm, punctuated by occasional throes of deep self loathing like the one he had just surfaced from -- as if to refuel his commitment. But now, looking down at the deep red liquid, all he felt was peace.

"Well. Here's to a lousy life." He raised the goblet, toasting thin air, "Fuck it all."

He brought the goblet to his lips, but just as he went to drink his eyes caught on the sudden disruption in the distance, out by the wrought iron gates that marked the entry to his family home. Four figures snapped into being where previously had been nothing but snow, and gravel, and air. He recognised three instantly. Voldemort, his aunt Bellatrix -- recognizable by her hair and posture, and the enormous serpent Nagini. The fourth figure, however, he didn't know. Clad in a flat brown robe, featureless, and with a hood raised, he wasn't even sure if the figure was male or female.

Lowering the goblet, he watched as the gate turned to smoke, the four figures moving through as they approached the manor. Seconds later, a frantic rapping sounded from the door to his room.

"Master Malfoy. Y-your presence is required downstairs." A high voice called from beyond the dark wood.

"Fuck." He muttered, lowering the goblet and placing it on the windowsill before raising his voice and replying. "Very well, Whittle!"

He didn't hate that elf, like Dobby. In fact, he cared for her, in a strange way, though he did pity her. Life had gotten worse for House Elves since Voldemort enforced his new order. Whittle, Draco recognized fairly swiftly, had once worked at Hogwarts -- but with the school's reorganization, and the fact that less elves were now needed there, she had been sent to serve the Malfoys. After Dobby's betrayal, Draco's father had been even harsher on her, and though Draco tried to be gentler to her, he had to maintain appearances for his father... Although, actually, not anymore he didn't. After today, it wouldn't matter what his father thought.

"Whittle! Come here, would you?" He called, unsure if she was still there, but soon learning that she was when the door opened and the diminutive figure half stepped in.

"Y-yes. Master M-Malfoy?" She said, poking her head in.

Malfoy moved toward her, snagging up his jacket. When he reached her, he hunkered down to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry, Whittle, for everything. Do me a favour? Don't touch the goblet, okay?"

She stood for a few seconds, but eventually replied. "Y-yes. Master Malfoy."

"Here you go." He handed her his jacket, seeing her eyes go wide with shock, before he turned and headed down toward the guests that he was undoubtedly late to receive.

Descending the stairs, the first thing he saw was the judgemental and disapproving eye if his father, undoubtedly due to his tardiness, and lack of a jacket. After that came the also somewhat manic grin if his Aunt, her pressing the tip of her wand into her forefinger as she toyed with it... Seemingly always armed, regardless of circumstance, Voldemort's rabid guard dog. The brown figure appeared next, along with his mother as she took a step back, as if retreating from some brief inspection. Then, finally, Voldemort, his dark grey robe dragging along the floor concealing his, Draco knew, bare feet. Nagini, was coiled partially behind him, her head shifting and following Draco's every move.

He'd never liked that snake, but now, he was terrified of it. During the battle at Hogwarts, all those months ago, Neville had apparently attempted to kill her -- tried removing her head with the fabled sword of Godric Gryffindor. He had failed. His blow missed, Nagini had tore Ron Weasley's throat out, and a Death Eater had incapacitated Neville. That was bad enough, but upon learning what Neville had tried to do, and the sword subsequently disappearing again, Voldemort had flown into a furious fit of rage. He had the rest of the Weasley family murdered, minus Ginny, in front of the school and then had Nagini swallow Neville while he was still alive, and petrified by a curse. Draco had never seen, or imagined, barbarity like it. He could barely stand to look at Nagini now.

"Ah, Draco. The man of the hour, dressed for the occasion, I see." Voldemort spoke, a wide smile dragging across his unnatural, pale features.

"I apologize for my tardiness and state of dress, my Lord. I was not aware we would be receiving you." Draco replied, bowing deeply, playing his part.

"Oh, not at all." Voldemort continued, chuckling and passing a fleeting glance across the others. "Come, come." He beckoned, holding his arms wide.

Draco suppressed a grimace as he moved over and hugged, or more accurately was hugged by, Voldemort, before being released and casting a curious eye over the brown robed, fully concealed, witch that he noticed, now he was closer, was floating about an inch above the ground.

"Yes, yes. Your reward, Draco." Voldemort spoke, his words laden with cruelty.

"Reward, for what? My Lord." He replied, looking across at the psychopath.

"Why for your invaluable assistance in ridding me of Dumbledore. You may not have delivered the killing blow yourself, but you were just a boy, a child, no. But still, you opened the way for those who could. Your aunt, you see, told me all about it. Quite the tale, quite the tale. I know, it's been ages since that day, I'm sure you thought I had forgotten, but I don't forget a thing, nor do I fail to reward those that deserve it. And now, finally, I have something to offer -- something befitting of a young man of pure lineage."

"I neither expected, nor desired, a reward, my Lord..." Draco began, only to be cut off.

"Such loyalty. Such selflessness. Exactly why you're one of my favourites Draco. You know-" The Dark Lord interrupted, before sweeping around the brown cloaked figure to stand near Bellatrix, who had been quietly giggling the entire time. "I wracked my brain for days trying to think of some way to thank you, but with the changes that we, all of us, have brought in the wake of my victory, I found myself... distracted. Distracted with concerns of sustainability. I could not focus, could not imagine a suitable reward... But then your aunt," he gestured over to the every crazed looking Bellatrix, who proceeded to offer a poorly executed curtsey, "came to me with the solution for both. Well, her and that loathsome woman from the Ministry, Umbridge." He paused for a moment.

"Did you know that I had planned to exterminate the mudbloods? Hmm, I assumed you had, I assumed most did. I had planned to round them up in the camps and cull the lot." Voldemort continued, moving back around behind the silent, motionless, floating figure.

"It is what they deserve, my Lord." Lucius interjected, never one to like being left out of a discussion.

"Quite right, but then without them...I realised, without new blood, our kind would die out. It was not sustainable. So, what to do? We can't have these magical parasites running around like you or I, no. But they have magic in their blood, deserving or not, and that magic can be useful. So, as your aunt said, starting with the best, and I use that term loosely in their regard, and brightest of these mudbloods we shall employ them... As breeding stock." The Dark Lord smiled, then looked across the assembled family awaiting reaction, Bellatrix's giggle becoming more audible for a brief moment.

Draco had to fight the urge to clench his jaw in disgust, and instead forced a crooked smile.

"Breeding stock. Surely you can't mean that we..." His mother began, before being silenced by her sister.

"Oh, but he does. We need numbers, new blood. The mudbloods may not deserve magic, but they've got it. Letting that all just sit in camps, or in the ground... Well, it would be an awful waste. Especially when it's so entertaining to use them." Bellatrix replied, her voice almost painful to hear, as always.

"Indeed, though I'm sure Bellatrix's motivations are somewhat more multifaceted than my own, her idea still has considerable merit. All families with unquestionable magical heritage will be afforded one, or more, of the mudbloods," he gestured derisively at the still floating figure, while Bellatrix ran a hand down the brown robe before seeming to cup its backside, "to be used as breeding stock. Their magic will be used to fuel the spread and the expansion of those fine families. They'll be half-bloods, but... Well, so am I. Besides, I'm sure that blood as clean as that of the Malfoy line, will easily scour her filth from any children."

Draco cast a brief sideways glance at his parents. His mother was shocked, and barely concealing how appalled she was. His father seemed, distant, most likely wondering if he would get one of his own.

So, this is his master plan? Draco thought, looking back at the brown robed witch. Wholesale rape?

"So. Draco, as reward for your invaluable assistance during the war, your aunt hand picked you a mudblood that she is confident you would truly enjoy." The Dark Lord spoke, as he stepped briefly forward and gently grasped the hood of the figure.

"Well, I'm sure she is correct. My aunt knows me well, and has impeccable taste." Draco replied, forcing a smile over at Bellatrix.

"And I've always wanted what's best for you, Draco." She spoke, her hands wringing her wand in anticipation.

"Quite so. I believe you are familiar with this one." Voldemort spoke, pulling the large, low hanging hood back, revealing someone Draco had long thought dead.

"Granger?" Spilled from him mouth before he could stop himself.

It was definitely her. She hardly looked any different, but then it had only been 7 months. Her hair was tied up, an unusual sight, but it was definitely her. She was floating an inch off the floor, and was unconscious, her chest rising and falling ever so shallowly with each breath.

Bellatrix let out a cackle, before raising her wand, the band restraining Granger's hair vanishing in an instant, allowing the mess of tangled hair to drop down. "I thought you'd like that. You always teased about what you'd do if you got your hands on this filthy mudblood. Well, here's your chance."

"She's yours, Draco. Until your tire of her. What I will say, though, don't damage her too much. She still needs to be... Fit for purpose after you tire of her." Voldemort spoke, latching his statement onto the end of Bellatrix's.

Part of him was furious, and fundamentally repulsed by exactly what his aunt, Voldemort, and apparently Umbridge had come up with. The widespread, systematic rape of Muggle-borns just to provide a population boom. It was repugnant, vile... It was horrifying. Another part of him, however was glowing with a sensation he hadn't experienced for what felt like a lifetime -- joy. Looking at Granger, not only a Muggle-born but also one of Potter's closest friends, and her actually being alive gave him hope. He had a chance now, a chance to do a tiny bit of good before finally ending his stain of a life.

"Ah, look at him. Such designs behind those eyes." Voldemort chuckled, his words snapping Draco back to the present.

He glanced across again, at his mother, seeing an indescribable expression in her face as she looked at Bellatrix. Undoubtedly thoroughly perplexed, and deeply concerned that she had apparently sourced her nephew a sex slave... And saw no problems with her interest.

"Uh, yeah. Yes, sorry. It's um, not quite what I was expecting. I- I'm honestly surprised this mudblood is still breathing, though of course I'm glad she is, so I can teach her some manners." Draco replied, drawing on years of prejudice -- prejudice imposed on him by a lifetime of being taught about pure-blood supremacy.

"Well, I was going to kill her. To remove her from the face of the planet, but your aunt persuaded me to spare her." The Dark Lord replied, gesturing first to Hermione, then to Bellatrix. "I assumed she had, after hearing what went on between the two when this Granger was suitably marked," he vaguely gestured to Hermione's forearm, where Draco knew the word Mudblood had been carved, "that she wished to play some more... Now, though, I begin to wonder if she hadn't had something like this planned all along."

"Well, if I did, could you blame me? He is my favourite nephew." Bellatrix replied, carefully reading and measuring the Dark Lord's pose, the amount of tension he held in his frame, and the inflections of his words, so that she knew when and what she could admit to, and when best to deny.

Voldemort seemed to be in a good mood, though his moods could shift so rapidly, one could never tell what he would do next. His unpredictability was part of what made him so dangerous.

"Well, regardless of your aunts motivations, here is one Hermione Granger. Ready your wand, Draco, you'll need to subdue her when she awakens." The Dark Lord smiled, waving his hand causing Hermione to lower to the ground, her body supporting itself despite her seeming unconsciousness.

"Subdue?" Draco questioned, drawing his wand.

"Indeed, the Imperius Curse should suffice."

"Are you sure, my Lord. I don't mean to question, but Granger... Well, she was quite strong willed from what I recall." Draco asked, aiming his wand at his former classmate.

"Quite. You may have been right, once upon a time, but she's been sufficiently broken now I'd wager... At least, to the point of no longer being able to resist such a curse -- cast by such a Wizard as yourself... And if she does, well, maybe you aren't as deserving of this rewards as I thought." Voldemort replied, his smile widening as he waved his hand dismissively.

As he did, Hermione's eyes opened instantly, the deep brown being something Draco had forgotten.

Before she'd even taken in her surroundings, Draco spoke, wanting to subdue her, and fill her with the sense of calm that came with the Imperius Curse, to spare her the indignity of being paraded in front of everyone -- or at least, make it so she didn't care. "Imperio."

Her eyes, just beginning to focus, immediately softened. A gentle, content, almost happy though hollow smile pulled at her lips, and her shoulders relaxed as she shifted and supported her weight.

"Draco. Hello." She said gently, the hollow smile never leaving her lips.

"Granger. You're among friends." Draco replied, unsure how she would react to her present company if he didn't say as much.

"Of course." She turned and looked over everyone. "Mister and Mrs Malfoy. It's nice to see you again, especially under far more gentle circumstances." She smiled at his parents before turning to his aunt. "And Bellatrix. You know, my arm still aches sometimes, but... Well, bygones. It's lovely to see you."

"Likewise, you disgusting little Mudblood." Bellatrix retorted, Hermione's smile only broadening.

"Yes, I suppose I am. And," she turned to face the Dark Lord. "Voldemort, Draco says we're friends now. That's nice."

"You will refer to him as My Lord." Draco interrupted.

"Oh, of course." Hermione replied before turning back. "My Lord, I'm sorry for my error."

"Oh not at all, dear girl. I trust you and Draco will have an eventful evening, but unfortunately I can't stay. Country to run, destiny to forge. Come Bellatrix, Nagini." Voldemort smiled, casting his eyes over the assembled Malfoys.

"I'll pop by in a week, see how you're getting on. You can tell me all about it, Draco." Bellatrix interjected.

"Look forward to it, Auntie."

"Narcissa, Lucius... Mudblood." She said, bidding farewell, chuckling as she looked over Hermione again.

"Bellatrix." The three said in almost unison, as she turned to follow Voldemort out into the snow, Nagini uncoiling and pursuing.

"Until next time." The Dark Lord, gave a mock bow before his form seemed to collapse in on itself, Nagini being sucked in as well, as he disapparated. Snow flittering as air collapsed inward to fill the void he had once occupied. A second later, smiling and waving, Bellatrix did the same.

Silence fell on the group as the door slowly closed, the entire interaction being done just inside the entranceway to their home.

"Using mudbloods for breeding? It's disgusting." Narcissa hissed, looking furiously at Hermione who still wore her hollow smile.

"It is the Dark Lord's bidding, Narcissa. Remember that." Lucius replied, stepping forward to inspect Hermione.

"Yes mother, if you didn't trust him to have absolute control over everything, maybe you shouldn't have put all of your eggs in that particular basket." Draco replied, allowing a few drips of the acid that was currently coursing through him to burn into his words.

She and Lucius glowered at him as he turned to climb the stairs. "If you'll excuse me."

"Take the mudblood with you. It's bad enough she's in my house, let alone in my sight!" Narcissa called after him.

"Come on, Granger!" Draco called, as he rounded onto the landing.

"Of course, Draco."

He'd stepped into his room and was already pacing by the time she walked in, her hollow smile already starting to gnaw at him.

"Go and sit down, would you?" He asked gesturing toward the bed.

She looked toward the bed, then looked back at him, before smiling and moving across to sit on it. The pristine white sheets, pulled ludicrously taught, creasing under her as she did.

He reached up and rubbed his jaw, dragging a finger across his lips as he thought, before heading to his door, checking the landing, and then closing it.

He paced the width of the room for he didn't know how long, occasionally glancing over at Granger, who would following him with her eyes, every step of the way, the hollow smile never leaving her lips.

"Fuck it. I've got to do something." He muttered.

He raised his wand, pointing it directly at Hermione, her contented smile not wavering in the slightest, before making a motion -- as if hooking a thread on the tip of his wand, before flicking it away. Before Hermione could even react to him lifting the curse, he cast another spell.

"Silencio." The wash of magic striking her throat harmlessly, but rendering her mute. "Incarcerous." A dull pulse of light sending a thick rope to strike into the young woman, knocking her flat on her back, and binding her arms, wrists, and ankles.

"Granger. Granger." He whispered, moving over to sit beside her, and press gently, but firmly, down on her shoulders as she began to furiously thrash on the bed, her senses fully returned, and her fight or flight kicking in.

Her mouth was open, as if she was screaming, shouting, and cursing, but luckily his spell blocked all sound.

"Granger. You have to stop, or they'll kill you." He whispered, his words quiet but forceful, and punctuated by him pushing down on her shoulders harder.

She turned to look at him, fury in her eyes, but as hers met his, she focused for a moment, perhaps seeing the sincerity in them, before she stopped thrashing and allowed herself to relax, albeit partially.

"Right, if I let you speak, will you be stupid and call the whole house down on us?" Draco asked, standing up and looking down her, her hair a mess over his pillows.

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his, and the fury not subsiding in the least.

"Fine." A far simpler spell, this one he simply dismissed with a thought and minor movement in his eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing, Malfoy?" She hissed, though keeping her voice down as she claimed she would.

"Believe it or not, trying to save you." He replied, glancing back at his door, paranoid.

"What?!" She exclaimed, her anger still evident, though her voice still low.

He gestured loosely at the bindings, wearing an expression that advertised his distaste of the current situation. "If I let you move, will you be an idiot and bang around, bringing the whole house do-" He went to ask, Hermione interrupting him before he could finish.

"Of course I won't, now let me go." She spat.

"One mistake, Granger, and they'll kill you... Or worse." He replied, flicking his wand up, the restraints turning to black smoke and dissipating into the air.

She immediately rolled off the bed, putting it between her and him, before rubbing where the binds had been. She didn't speak, she simply glowered at him.

"Well? Are you just going to stand there, or what?" She finally said, after the silence dragged on too long.

"What." He replied, "I'm going to do What? I hadn't planned for this, I had no idea you were even alive and now that you are, and now that you're here, I-- I can't just..."

"What are you blathering on about?" She snapped, "You can't what?!"

The wardrobe door behind her suddenly opened, causing her to spin around and ball up a fist, only for the diminutive form of a House Elf to appear, stepping from within.

"Master Malfoy was about to kill himself." Whittle said, walking out and looking first at Hermione, then at Draco, his expression one of shame. "W-Whittle isn't stupid, Sir. W-Whittle worked at Hogwarts, Whittle knows what's in the Goblet."

"Shut up. I freed you, why are you still here?" Draco asked, taking a step forward aggressively, not liking his plans so brazenly spoken about, especially not in front of Hermione.

"Because I c-couldn't let you do it, Sir." Whittle answered.

"What? What Goblet? Kill yourself?" Hermione asked, quickfire, her eyes snapping between Whittle and Draco.

"I doesn't matt-" Draco began.

"This Goblet." Whittle interrupted, snapping her fingers, the Goblet appearing in front of Hermione, floating until she took it.

Lowering his eyes and biting on his tongue, Draco saw, in his periphery, Hermione breathing in the scent. She recoiled, then, with a puzzled look on her face, breathed in the scent again.

Looking over at him, her expression softened slightly. "Draco. This is Bloodroot. This would be excruciating... But..." She looked at him closer, his expression, his bearing, "you already knew that. Didn't you?"

"So what if I did?! It's none of your business, either of you." He snapped, fighting to keep his voice low.

"Figures you'd take the cowardly way out. What, can't live with the world you helped create?" Hermione retorted, her expression only hardening when Draco raised his wand at her.

"Fuck you, Granger. I'm risking a lot trying to save you." He shot back, moving around the bed, lowering his wand which he'd raised reactively out of anger.

"You're not risking anything." She replied, moving quickly toward the large window that looked out onto the two hedged gardens, and the main gate. "How exactly would you killing yourself save me? What? You give me your wand, I apparate away, something I haven't done for months and will probably splinch myself in the process. Then you kill yourself. Think about it, tomorrow morning, you're found dead, and your wand and I are missing. What conclusion would you draw? I'd be on the run, alone, not only a rogue Muggle-born, but a murderer as well, as far as the rest of the country is concerned. How exactly is that saving me?"

"For fuck sake, I'm trying to free you both, I have freed you," he pointed frustratedly at Whittle, "and yet you're hung up on what I do after. I don't know what I expected of a House Elf, but I expected more from you Granger. You survived for months on the run before, and that was when you were actively trying to fight -- I'm sure you'd have no problems disappearing if you put your mind to it." Draco scoffed, exasperated at both of them.

"Then what? Live the rest of my life in hiding, terrified of being discovered. Some salvation."

"I don't much care what you do, but you can't stay here!" He hissed.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" He replied, completely aghast at her question.

"Why can't I stay here? It's safe, nobody would expect anything of me, after all, I'm under the Imperius Curse, aren't I? I could stay here until I figure out what to do next." She explained, opening the window and pouring the contents of the goblet away. "Either way, you don't get to just check out, Malfoy. Don't like the world you helped make, try to fix it. Try having a spine for once."

He stared at her, his anger met by cold disinterest and logic. He gripped his wand, his knuckles turning white, but a touch on his forearm snapped his eyes from her and down to the diminutive House Elf that had rested her hand gently on him.

"I don't kn-know who this is," Whittle said, casting an eye over at Hermione, "and I'm not sure i-if her calling you a coward is fair, b-but Master M-Malfoy does not deserve to die."

"No. She's right, I am, and I do." Malfoy replied, pulling away from her and moving away. "That," he pointed toward Hermione, "is Hermione Granger. Would be, and failed, Hero of the second wizarding war. Supposed brightest witch of her age, and yet she's too stupid to run when given the chance."

"Or, perhaps, Malfoy, I'm too smart to run when I know it's pointless."

"Then what is your plan, Granger?"

"I don't have a fucking plan, Draco!" She hissed, "I can't remember the last time I actually had a thought that was mine, never mind a plan."

He opened his mouth to reply, but the words failed to form. It suddenly dawned on him that he had no idea what she had been through, what may have happened to her over the past seven months.

"Well, neither do I. You weren't supposed to be here. I was supposed to be dead by now, like Potter, like Goyle, the Weasleys, Snape... Dumbledore. All the people who are dead because of me. If you stay here, you'll die too. Don't you get that? You need to survive, at least one person that deserves to live, should get to. You have to live. I need you to live." He finally said, a pleading look in his eye.

"And I want to live, that's why I need to stay here. If I run, they'll catch me and kill me, or worse. If I stay here-" she began, Draco interrupting.

"If you stay here they'll do the same. If you stay here, you'll need to pretend to be under the Imperius Curse. You get that, right? You'll need to smile and exchange pleasantries with the likes of my father, and Bellatrix, and Voldemort. Any break in your demeanor, any hesitation, anything, and they'll know, straight away. You'll have to listen to them constantly mocking you, and tormenting you with tails of Potter and Weasley's deaths -- listening to my aunt explain, in vivid detail, about how she murdered Molly Weasley. Then, of course, you'll need to do anything and everything I say, instantly, without question, and you'll need to do it with a smile on your face -- and any mistake, any slip, and they'll know. I... You're talented Granger, magically, but I doubt your ability to pull this off." Draco spoke, laying out every reason why her staying was a bad idea. "Either that or..."

"Or you actually put me under again." She finished.

"Yeah, but I don't want to do that." He replied.

"Nor do I. Have you ever been under the effects of that curse?" She asked, looking at him, him shaking his head in response. "It's blissful, until it's over, and then you feel just... Violated, powerless. I'd rather try, fail, and be killed, than be placed under that curse again but... If the situation calls for it, you can put me under again. I- I'm at your mercy anyway, so I better lean into it."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he couldn't believe that it was making a reasonable amount of sense, but still his doubts swam. "And then what? Say we do this, and you find a way to control yourself and pass as being under my control, and find a way to stomach living here... Then what?"

"I don't know. I- I don't know. I need, I need time. Time to get my thoughts straight, to find out what has happened since the war. I- I need time to think, and, if you really want to do some good, I need your help." She replied, placing the empty goblet on the windowsill and stepping closer, toward the bed, and then sitting on the edge.

Draco didn't speak, he just stood, watching her, the flat, unflattering brown sack she was wearing draping over her as she sat on the bed, his bed. He saw as her head shifted and she looked over at Whittle.

"And who are you? Whittle?" She asked.

"Yes, Ms. Granger. W-Whittle serves Master Malfoy-" she began, Draco interrupting.

"Served. Whittle served the Malfoy family, I freed her earlier, but like you, she refuses to be freed." He said, glaring at her.

"Whittle served the Malfoy family, now W-Whittle serves Master Malfoy." She continued, swiftly side-eyeing Draco before returning her gaze to Hermione.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because. M-Master Malfoy doesn't deserve to die, no matter w-what he has done. Master Malfoy has only be-en kind to Whittle since she arrived. She was who Master Malfoy practiced kindness on... Now, when he needs some kindness in return, I'm happy to do so." She replied.

"Well, that's sweet, but maybe it escaped your notice -- as it did Granger's, but you'll need to play the part. You can't just serve me, Whittle. You'll have to continue living the way you have since coming here. Dealing with my father's abuses, and my mother's demands... All of it." He said, not understanding why he needed to explain it.

"It didn't escape my notice, Malfoy." Hermione retorted.

"Nor did it mine, S-Sir." Whittle replied, though her words were softer than Granger's.

He threw his arms up in despair, and leaned back on the wall. The minutes of silence dragged on. Granger just sat, lost in thought, while Whittle seemed to shift uneasily.

"Fine." He sighed, the other two looking over at him. "If you two really want to do this, then we best get to it." Draco sighed, glancing at the clock mounted in his room. 7pm.

"What?" Granger asked, her expression shifting to interest.

"What? If you're staying here, you need to do more than play the part. You're to be my- " he stopped, reforming the words he was going to say, for some less awkward, notably by dropping a particular word. "My slave."

"Sex slave, no... Breeding stock, I believe was the phrase used. I remember the entire conversation, Draco." Hermione glowered.

"Yes. Which means you'll need to look, I don't know, nice... And more to the point, I doubt you've had the opportunity to have any recently-" Draco continued, pausing when Hermione bolted up from the bed, a look of horror on her face.

"What the fuck are you saying?!" She spat.

"Baths... What? You need a bath and I doubt you've had any recently. What?" He replied, confusion falling on his face.

"Oh. I- I thought you meant..." She didn't finish her sentence, but Draco's shift in expression indicated she didn't need to.

"Oh, god. No. For fuck's sake, Granger! I'm not a fucking rapist!" He took a step forward, fury bubbling up in him again.

"No. No. I- ... Just forget it. I'm sorry. Yeah, a- a bath would be great." She replied, immediately regretting her actions.

Draco exhaled, trying to clam himself down. "The bathroom is through there." He pointed at the other door in his bedroom, the one that led to his suitably lavishly appointed ensuite, though it paled in comparison to the master bathroom.

She got up and moved toward the deep brown door. Pulling it open, she paused and looked back. "Thank you, Draco."

He didn't reply, he just looked away briefly before looking back and nodding slightly.

She stepped in and closed the door. A few seconds later he heard the sound of rushing water. Turning to Whittle his expression softened as he looked at her, still wearing the small outfit she had fashioned herself from an old quilt embossed with the Malfoy family crest.

"Whittle... I wasn't nice to you because I expected something in return. You don't have to stay. You're free... Just go." He said, moving over and hunkering down in front of her.

"I know, M-Master Malfoy. But that's why you deserve my help." She replied, her eyes shining with sincerity.

He couldn't help but smile as he stood up, before adopting an expression more suitable for a Malfoy addressing his staff.

"Then, go and fetch Miss Granger and I some tea." He said.

"Y-yes, Sir." She smiled, as she moved toward his door, then stepped out, heading for the stairs.

A few moments passed before the door opened and she returned awkwardly carrying a large silver tray, with a teapot, two cups, milk, and sugar. Draco swept over and took the tray from her, placing it on the small coffee table near the window, close to a couch that was positioned behind the headboard of his bed.

"Thank you, Whittle. You might want to get some rest, you know what time mother and father start in the morning." He said, smiling at her and nodding toward the door.

She smiled in reply and stepped out, pulling the door closed behind her.

Another fifteen or twenty minutes passed before, sitting on the couch and facing the window, he heard the bathroom door open. Looking back, he saw a sight he had never once expected to see. Stepping out, wrapped in a white towel, her hair similarly so, walked Hermione. The skin on her upper chest, arms, and lower legs glistening and slightly reddened by the heat of the bath, the rest undoubtedly so as well, but obscured by the towel.

"Do, do you have anything I could wear?" She asked, he cheeks now reddening, but not due to heat.

"Shit. Um..." He stood up, his eyes darting around as he thought. "No. I can send Whittle to get you some, but that won't be until tomorrow. Um... Uh, here." He stammered sweeping over toward her, noticing her flinch slightly but letting it slide. She relaxed when he stopped short and pulled open one of his wardrobes. Reaching in, he snagged a number of items, though the door blocked Hermione's view of what they were, then he hauled a drawer open and grabbed another.

"It's uh, it's all I've got, but you're welcome to look through what else is there, but, I figured we'd be going to sleep soon, so you'd want something at least partially comfortable." He hooked his foot around the bottom of the door and swung it closed as he spoke, before offering her what he'd grabbed.

It was a simple pair of white Y fronts, and a pair of his black pajamas. "I don't know if they'll fit, especially the bottoms, so I grabbed this too." It was a simple plane white shirt, identical to the one he was wearing, along with his Slytherin school robe which he hadn't worn for a long time and, honestly, didn't know why he kept.

She gingerly accepted the pile of clothing before nodding and heading back into the bathroom.

Turning and sitting back down, Draco snatched up his wand and pointed it at the teapot. Though nothing visibly happened, he knew the contents were slowly warming back up. As steam began to emerge from the spout, he heard the door open and turned back to look.

What he saw, took him aback. Her hair was a mess, as she was roughly assaulting it with the towel, trying to dry it. She was wearing his black pajamas, though as he imagined, they didn't quite fit. She had buttoned the top up all the way, seeking some sense of modesty, but given the dramatic decrease in temperature, and her lack of a bra, it was somewhat of a mute point. The bottoms didn't exactly fit brilliantly either, the legs being too long, an issue she had remedied by rolling them up, and the waist band hung on her hips as opposed to her waist. She'd also thrown on his old robe, too, using it as bath robe of sorts, though had yet to fasten it closed. She looked liked a mess, but for the first time, he was seeing her as a person -- not a mudblood... And she was beautiful.

Swallowing, and regaining his composure, he moved over toward her.

She stopped drying her hair as he did, and pulled the robe around her self.

"Here, for your hair." He said, holding his wand between his thumb and forefinger, offering it to her.

Her expression immediately shifted from a guarded one, to one of honest suprise, before she slowly reached out and took the wand.

"I can't remember the last time I held a wand." She said, examining it from every angle.

"Yeah, well, if you're staying here, we're going to need to start trusting each other sooner or later, and I'd much prefer sooner... I, I will need that back though." He said, still uneasy with her looking like this.

During his time at Hogwarts he'd never even considered her as anything other than how he'd been raised to -- as a filthy mudblood, something lesser than him. But now.

"Pft, you'll be lucky, she chuckled. Aer Callidus." She spoked, the jet of hot air erupting from the tip of the wand before she played it over her hair.

He sniggered, turning back toward the couch. "You look much better in Slytherin colours." He said, only speaking the tiniest fragment of the truth that was now spinning in his mind -- that he found her beautiful. He didn't see how she reacted to what he said, but he could imagine. "There's tea." He concluded dropping down onto the dark wood and fabric couch.

A few moments passed before she appeared in his periphery, and then dropped down beside him. She offered him his wand back without him asking, but he simply held his hand up and shook his head.

"Why don't you hold on to it, for a little bit." He said, pouring two cups. "I'm not sure how you take it."

She squared her shoulders, steadying her breathing, most likely unsure of how the wand would react in the hands of a witch, not its owner, and so out of practice. Then, pointing the wand at the small jug of milk that Draco just replaced, it expertly and effortlessly floated from the silver tray to pour the exact measure of milk she desired, into her cup.

Turning his head, and looking at her, he couldn't help but smile in response to her smile as she used magic for the first time in seven months.

Shifting the wand, the jug replaced itself before a teaspoon lifted from the tray. Watching, his smile quirked as her tongue poked lightly from her lips as she focused. The teaspoon dipped into the loose sugar, measuring a quarter load, before floating over and depositing it into her tea and stirring.

"I don't know why I'm impressed," he began, leaning back on the couch, his cup in hand, "if anyone was going to be able to perform delicate magic after seven months without practice, it would of course be you."

She exhaled through her nose, her smile tugging slightly before setting back to a more sombre state. Placing the wand down, she scooped up her cup and leaned back.

They sat in silence for a moment, each just holding their tea, occasionally blowing the liquid. Eventually Hermione spoke, though she didn't look at him.

"Are any of my friends alive?" She asked, her voice low.

He looked her, not wanting to answer.

"Honestly, I don't know." He replied. "You know that many of them aren't, those that fell at Hogwarts, but... D- do you really want to know?" He asked.

She brought her cup to her lips and drank the liquid, her shoulders relaxing in response. Pulling the cup away, she nodded shallowly.

"Okay... Well, obviously Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom are, well, you were there. Um, Bellatrix killed Ron's parents, and brothers-" He began, stopping when Hermione spoke.

"What about Ginny?"

"N- no. No. Ginny, I'm not sure. She survived the battle. Um, look, maybe you don't want to hear-"

"Malfoy. Please." She said, looking him squarely in the eye.

He took a deep breath, then a sizable gulp of entirely too hot tea.

"Last I heard, and this is just rumour, when Voldemort learned that she was in love with Potter, and vice versa, he... Well, he did, and is still doing, as the rumour goes, to her what I was to be doing to you... But, minus the children."

"Oh, god." She began sobbing, moving the cup over and placing it on the tray.

He mirrored the motion and went to hold her, but stopped himself, truly doubting she wanted him to touch her at all, never mind in this moment.

"Um, Lovegood, all of the Lovegoods, they're dead... To my knowledge. Uh, I..." He let his voice trail off. "I- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I- I didn't-" He let his words trail off again, knowing that nothing he could say would matter in the least. Instead he picked up his cup again, and downed the contents.

She sat for about five minutes, not sobbing though he was sure she wanted to. The occasional sniff came from her, and she would raise her hand every few minutes to wipe her eyes. He wanted her to cry, not for any pleasure on his part, but because he knew how damaging it could be to bottle things up. Still, he didn't say anything, as he knew she'd take it the wrong way, and he couldn't blame her.

Clearing her throat, she snatched up her cup and downed the contents in a single gulp. Draco immediately reached out and refilled it, adding the exact same measurements of milk and sugar that she had.

"You were going to say something." She said, as he finished pouring his own second cup.

"What?"

"You went to say something, but stopped. I want to hear it." She said, turning on the couch and looking at him.

"It doesn't matter. Sentiment is... Worthless. Only actions really matter."

"I want to hear what you were going to say. Tell me, Malfoy."

"I," he paused, "I never... I didn't want any of this. I mean, I did, for a while -- like in the early years of school. My parents they'd always go on about you m- Muggle-borns, about how you were a stain on the wizarding world, about how much better things would have been if Voldemort hadn't disappeared... And I believed it, I mean, why wouldn't I? Then he came back, and Cedric died in the process, and I don't know... That didn't seem right to me, people were, my parents were, celebrating his return but -- it seemed, forced. My parents seemed more scared than pleased." He took a swig of his tea, not looking at her. "Then he went and fucking moved in, and I was all of a sudden his key to Dumbledore. I- I had to kill Dumbledore, me. How was I supposed to kill Albus Dumbledore? It was ridiculous, but I couldn't say no. Everything about my entire life, save for those little doubts, was telling me that this psychopath was right, and that I had to kill Dumbledore, and then, of course, there was the reality that if I refused, he would have killed me in an instant, if I was lucky. I- I'd never for a moment thought that my way of life was wrong, until he came back. My entire life had been spent being told by everyone I knew that blood purity was all that mattered, that Voldemort was the champion of our blood, and that he'd make everything better. I never -- I didn't want this, any of it. I just wanted to make my parents proud, I guess, to be a Malfoy, whatever that means. But that's all meaningless now. It doesn't matter what I wanted, or what I thought, or why I did what I did. It only matters that I did what I did. All those people; Potter, Weasley, McGonagall, Snape, Dumbledore, all of them, they're all dead because I couldn't do the right thing, because I was too scared to just refuse to do what felt wrong." He downed the rest of his tea, discarding the cup as he stood up, the china clattering onto the tray.

He walked a few steps away, to beside his bed, back facing the window, the couch, and Granger.

A few moments passed before she spoke.

"I think that you're allowing that arrogance that so defines you to cloud things a bit." He heard Hermione say, her voice level.

"What?" He turned back to see her take another sip of tea.

"Voldemort would likely have found a way to get rid of Dumbledore with or without you. If you'd refused, you'd be dead, and sure he may have been delayed for a while, but not for long." She said, looking over at him. "I think you're overselling your own importance, a fairly common thing with you."

He laughed coldly. "You can't know that. Hypotheticals get us nowhere. It doesn't matter what might have happened, it matters what did happen."

She nodded, downing the rest of her tea before replacing the cup. "Still, seems to me you were just one way to reach an inevitability."

"Are you always like this? So analytical?" He asked.

"Not all the time. But if you keep wallowing in self-pity like this, you'll end up killing yourself, and then that's that for me. You said you wanted me to survive, and unfortunately for you, my survival is predicated on your continued existence. So the sooner you come to terms with the fact that you were as much a victim as anyone else, and stop considering yourself as some irredeemable villain, the better." She said, coldly, matter-of-factly, while holding his gaze.

He tried to hold hers, but failed and shrunk beneath it. Turning away, as if to look at the clock, he decided to do so. Nine o'clock.

"Well, unless you can think of something else to do while we are both stuck in this room due to circumstance, I'm going to sleep." He said, just desperate for the day to end now.

She hummed in agreement, standing up before realisation dawned on her and she stopped. "And, what exactly are the sleeping arrangements?"

"Don't be a dick, Granger. You'll obviously take the bed, and I'll crash on the couch." He stated, rolling his eyes and growing somewhat weary of the constant assumptions being made by her as to his intentions.

"I assumed it would be something like that, but with roles reversed," she paused as he turned to protest, but silenced him by holding her hand up before continuing, "buuuut, what if your parents come in and find you on the couch?"

"My parents?" He scoffed, rolling his eyes, "look I don't know what Muggle households are like, but my parents knock. They've always knocked, and more to the point, Granger, they're under the impression that I'm in here, with you, my..." He paused, hating how ridiculous the next words sounded, "my sex slave, and that you are under my complete control due to the Imperius curse. What parent is going to go anywhere near a room containing what that implies?"

"Okay, yeah, I... See your point." She replied.

"And on the very far away chance that they do come anywhere near that door -- you can guarantee they'll knock before opening it." He continued, on somewhat of a rant now.

"I get it Malfoy, I get it. Umm, can-" she huffed, "can I use your toothbrush?"

His expression shifted, not expecting a question of such minor significance. "Umm, yeah. If you want or, I mean, you seem to still know your way around magic. Why not conjure a temporary one?" He replied, gesturing at his wand that still sat on the table.

"I didn't think about that... But, I can use yours if I can't do this?"

"Yeah, but if you can't, I will." He said, her odd vulnerability throwing him.

She nodded, before returning to the table and snatching up the wand. Conjuration magic wasn't easy, even something as simple as a toothbrush.

"Conjurus Peniculus Dentarius." She said, performing the wand gestures and reciting the incantations as if she were a student again, not trusting herself to simply use the short form incantation, or just do it non-verbally.

Clearly holding an image of a previous toothbrush of hers in her mind, Draco watched as pink smoke spilled from the tip of his wand before forming into a similarly coloured solid toothbrush. It wouldn't last, it would be gone by morning, but it was good enough for now.

He smiled as she did, before watching her vanish into the bathroom again. Returning to the table and tidying the cups properly onto the tray for Whittle, he noticed she had dropped his wand on the bed as she went.

Hearing the door he watched as she moved toward the bed, shedding his old robe as she did. He couldn't help but look at her, the unflattering black pajamas doing nothing to hide how attractive she was, something he honestly hadn't noticed. He quietly scoffed at how blinded by prejudice he'd been, but she evidently heard it as she quickly shot him a glare.

"What?" She asked, her gaze hardening, while still one knee on the bed.

"No, nothing." He replied, shaking his head and moving toward the bathroom, taking the long way round to avoid violating her circumstantially inflated personal space.

"No. What's so funny, Malfoy?" She snapped, causing him to stop.

He'd had enough. She had every right to be abrasive and suspicious and defensive, but he had his limits.

"Fine. You want to know? I was thinking that you were actually quite pretty, and I was amused by the fact that I hadn't noticed before. Feel better now? Now we can both stew in that casserole of awkwardness." He snapped, fighting his own amusement as he saw her gaze immediately shift in suprise.

"Sorry, I... Thanks, I guess." She replied, looking away and climbing into the bed.

He didn't say anything, instead he moved over to his wardrobe, stopping just before pulling the door open when Hermione spoke again.

"Wait, uh, what are you going to wear?" She asked, her question throwing him as he turned to look at her.

"What do you mean, what am I going to wear? Pajamas, Granger, like the ones I've given you." He replied.

"You can't."

"What- what are you going on about?" He said, exasperated.

She sat up, the duvet slipping down slightly as she did. "You said it yourself. What do your parents think is happening in here-"

"They aren't going to come in." He flustered, gesturing wildly at the door.

"No, but what if they knock? You'll have to answer, and if you open the door wearing pajamas from head to toe they might wonder why, when if we were, well, doing... the... do... Then surely you wouldn't be wearing any at all." She said, looking away.

"Well I'm not wearing nothing, Granger. Not in front of you." He replied.

"No, bloody hell, I don't want you to. Just, I don't know, only wear bottoms or something, or underwear, just -- use your brain." She slammed her head back down onto the pillow and rolled over, facing away from him.

He reached into the wardrobe, grabbing just a pair of deep emerald pajama bottoms, then moved into the bathroom. Closing the door, he used the facilities, brushes his teeth, washed, and then removed his shoes, socks, trousers and underwear, before pulling the pajama bottoms on. Grabbing his discarded attire, he opened the door and stepped back out before dropping the items in a heap near the foot of the bed.

"There. Happy?" He asked, flicking his gaze over toward Hermione that, given the direction she was facing, could now see him.

"Oh, yeah, ecstatic."

He rolled his eyes as he fiddled with, and unfastened, his simple silver cufflinks. After opening his cuffs, he twisted the fastenings again, to stop the cufflinks falling free, and moved up to the buttons on his shirt. Rapidly slipping free button after button, he finally peeled the shirt free and threw it near the base of the bed, only just noticing then that Granger was still watching him.

With a sense of shame washing through him, he quickly moved his left arm across his stomach, concealing the Dark Mark that still twisted on his forearm. He then moved around toward the wardrobe side of the bed, wanting to be out of her field of vision.

It wasn't until he reached there that he realised his wand was still on the bed, the wand he needed. Rolling his eyes at how awkward everything had become, so quickly, he stepped closer to the bed.

"I'm just getting my wand." He said softly before leaning over her and snatching up his 10" Hawthorn, trying to ignore the minor shift of the girl beneath the duvet, as she seemed to tense after turning her head to see him lean over her.

Standing back up, he flicked his wand at one of the other wardrobes, a large bank of them forming one entire wall of his room, causing the door to fly open, and a pillow and duvet to drift out before arranging themselves on the couch. Continuing the same motion, he played his wand across the window, causing the curtains to close, before twisting his wand upright and flicking it in a tight circle, the enchanted lighting rapidly dimming and falling dark.

Her placed his wand on the coffee table beside his makeshift bed, before laying on the couch and pulling the duvet over him.

He laid in silence for a few moments, just listening to the steady breathing of Granger, right beside him, though separated by the back of the couch and the headboard.

"Good night, Malfoy." She finally said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Good night." 


	2. Chapter 2

[[[ Long chapter this one, and a long wait too. Sorry about that. Depression is being a bitch, and those that have experienced it, know full well how it tanks your motivation.

Again, proof read by me. So there may be a few errors. ]]]

**__________**

**Part Two.**

She awoke with a start, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the morning. It struck her as on track, that the first time she'd been able to have a comfortable night's sleep in months, it was cut short by a nightmare.

Rolling over onto her back, she sat up and checked the clock, before slumping back and looking up at the ceiling. Ten to seven, so all in all, not a bad night's sleep -- in fact, the best she'd had in a long time, even with the nightmare that her subconscious had brewed up for her, but even that was now melting away, being soaked up by Draco's, honestly, superb mattress.

The last seven months had been terrible. The camps that Voldemort and his ilk had set up were cold and cruel. She hadn't been abused, not physically anyway, which she counted as a blessing, but the constant overbearing messages they bombarded them with? Well, she'd seen plenty of Muggle-borns crack, and accept the lie that they had somehow stolen their magic. She'd heard rumours, too, of a separate wing where they took younger kids, those just old enough to start magical education, and instead did nothing but tell them how it was dangerous, and that them having it was a mistake. She didn't know for sure what they did to those kids, but they all left again, and she was sure they didn't go and join the magical community. They couldn't just kill them, thank god, that would cause too much hassle between them and the Muggle world, at least, not yet anyway. Voldemort didn't have the powerbase, and maybe, never would. She assumed they somehow managed to get these kids to just not use it, ignore it. Not suppress it, that was dangerous, but -- well, she didn't know.

Then the other rumours had started. The rumours that Umbridge, that bitch, had somehow gained authorisation to start up some new program. Then she'd been hauled off, and then she came to, standing in front of Draco Malfoy, to be used, if everything had gone their way, as breeding stock... But everything hadn't gone their way. The one part of their plan that, if she was a betting girl, she'd have put considerable money on not going awry, went awry.

Quietly, she sat up and turned to look over the headboard of the bed. There, still asleep, the duvet having fallen of the couch, was Draco Malfoy -- her, so it seemed, saviour... Though she was far from trusting him yet. As she watched, she saw his face shift, contort slightly.

It seemed she wasn't the only one plagued by bad dreams. Still, looking at him, even in the dim light, she was taken back to the one, in retrospect, so stupid, night that she, and Ginny, and the other girls had spent in the Gryffindor dorm, hormonal and excitable, chatting about boys. She'd only done it the once, though she'd heard the other girls chat about it fairly often. It just wasn't her thing. She'd always preferred just studying, but one night Ginny had convinced her to join in and, honestly, she'd had fun. They'd talked about which boys they thought were hot and Draco's name had surfaced. He never had many admirers, certainly not in Gryffindor, his attitude had made sure of that -- but, none of them were blind. They'd chatted, and laughed, and imagined -- but now she was looking down at him, he wasn't at all what she'd pictured back then. Sure, a lot had happened in the years between then and now, but even still-

She shook her head, dislodging the thought and laying back down.

Y fronts. She chuckled under her breath, remembering that she was currently wearing a pair of Draco's underwear. She'd been right. That night, years ago, they'd all guessed what underwear some of the guys would wear... She'd guessed Y fronts for Draco. She'd been right, an answer she never imagined, or wanted, to learn.

She ran her had up, and massaged the back of her neck, while shunting that thought from her mind as well. "Come on, Hermione." She whispered, "More important things to think about."

It was difficult. She'd been imprisoned for the past seven months, she had no idea what had happened to the outside world in the time since the Battle of Hogwarts. Though, she considered it safe to assume, that it had been nothing good. Fear was a powerful motivator, and using it, she had no doubt, Voldemort had likely brought the entire country to heel fairly swiftly. He had the Ministry under his thumb, the Aurors were mostly gone, Dumbledore was dead, and Harry... Well, he was dead, too. Everyone and everything that could or should have opposed him was either under his control, or gone. What were people to do, they couldn't-

She stopped.

For the first time, she really saw things from Draco's perspective -- as he must have seen them back during the war. What was he supposed to do? Refusing, fighting back, or working against Voldemort meant certain death, or so every experience had taught him. The world he lived in then, was the one everyone in Britain lived in now. A world of only two paths: Voldemort, or death.

The knock at the door made her jump, before sitting up and looking back toward where Draco was stirring.

"Malfoy." She hissed, sitting up further and reaching down to jostle him. "Malfoy."

"Wh- What, what?" He replied, his cold blue eyes opening, and slowly focusing up at her, she'd forgotten how pretty his eyes were.

"Door." She replied, laying back down, her statement being punctuated by another rapid series of knocks.

"Oh, fuck's-" He didn't finish, instead allowing his voice to trail off as he got up, roughly kicked the fallen duvet under the couch, and headed for the door. "Who is it?" Her asked, leaning with one hand on the door frame, one grasping the doorknob.

"W-Whittle, Sir." Hermione heard from the other side, her shoulders relaxed, and she saw Draco's do the same as glanced quickly back at her before opening the door, allowing the House Elf to step in.

She watched as Whittle walked in, casting an eye over Draco's half-dressed state, and the pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. She felt her cheeks warm, but was instantly relived when, instead of her, Whittle looked back at Draco.

"What?" He said, before his eyes darted across how the room looked. "Oh, now, come on. Nothing happened." He immediately asserted.

"Of course, S-sir." Whittle replied, "Your mother an-nd father would like to know if you and Miss Granger will be joining them for breakfast?".

"What, oh, um... Yes, yes we will." He answered, she heard him reply, watching him shifting uneasily at his current state, and the implications of the state of the room.

She enjoyed seeing him squirm, but still decided to help. Sitting up, the duvet fell down revealing the pajamas that were still done up, right up to the neck. "I'm sure they didn't refer to me as Miss Granger, though did they?" She asked, causing Whittle to look over at her.

"No, miss. Whittle i-is afraid they didn't." She smiled sadly. "Whittle will go and tell them that you will be dow-n shortly."

"Thank you, Whittle." Hermione said, seeing her move toward the door. Snapping her fingers as she went, the tray of cups from the night before floated over into her grasp, and the lights in the room began to glow.

"Whittle, really, nothing happened." Malfoy said again, looking right at the elf.

Whittle smiled, "Of course, Sir." She said, echoing her previous statement, before moving away.

Draco closed the door, and turned to look at her.

Hermione couldn't stop the small smile tugging at her lips. "She's tormenting you." She chuckled, seeing Draco's expression shift. "You honestly expected her to stay her old self after you freed her? Your going to have to deal with her pushing boundaries now." She continued, pulling the bedding back and swinging her legs out to stand up.

"I'm going to regret freeing that elf." He replied, looking back at the door, but she knew he was only saying so in jest.

Watching him, he moved towards the wardrobe, the light now filling the room making the dozen or so faint scars on his chest, arms, and neck visible. Harry had given him those.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, a thought struck her as she watched Draco pull on a matching emerald pajama top to the bottoms he was wearing.

"Malfoy, what am I going to wear?" She asked.

"What?" He replied, before looking back at her and his expression dropping as he came to the same understanding. "Ahh. I... Have no idea." He slowly turned back into the wardrobe, she assumed trying to think of a solution, but she already had.

She didn't like the solution she'd come up with, but it was the only one she could think of given the time pressure. "Never mind. I've got it." She said, bending down to snatch up his old school robe, before moving around the bed to grab his shirt from the day before.

"Just, don't say anything." She pulled the door to bathroom closed behind her and then turned to face the mirror.

She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to dress the way she was about to be dress, not in front of Draco Malfoy and his family, anyway. Ron... She would have loved Ron to see her the way she was about to look.

It was a mistake to think of him, she knew it was, but she'd allowed herself to do so anyway.

Her face contorted and tears streamed from her eyes, seemingly appearing in an instant. She hadn't allowed herself to think of Ron in weeks, as every time she did she broke down. But now, more than just the heartbreaking sense of loss she felt when thinking of him, she was feeling guilt as well. Guilt for the relationship, for lack of a better word, that she was going to have to fake with Draco. She knew she had no grounds to feel guilty, she knew it was completely irrational, but she felt it anyway.

Sniffing, she looked at her reflection and dried her eyes. They were reddened now, but there was a spell that could ease that, though she'd have to embarrassingly ask Draco to cast it.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself, before shedding her top and kicking the pajama bottoms off. Grabbing Draco's shirt, she pulled it on and buttoned it up, though not all the way, then she grabbed his old Slytherin robe and hauled it on over her shoulders, leaving it unfastened. Turning back to face the mirror, she looked at herself again, and had she been closer to the mirror, she would have punched it. She wasn't though, so instead, she calmed her breathing again, reached up, and messed up her hair.

She cracked the door open, but just enough to speak, and not affording Draco any sight of her. "You say a word, and I swear Malfoy-" she began, stopping when he interrupted her.

"I won't, Granger. I- I know you don't believe me yet, but I really am just trying to do the right thing, for once. I won't sa--" His voice trailed off as she opened the door.

She stood in the door, dressed in only a school robe, his shirt, and a pair of his underwear. Her cheeks were burning, and she couldn't look at him for what felt like ages.

When she did finally look up, he was stood, mouth agape, with a slightly larger bump in his trousers than had been there previously. "Malfoy..." She said, trying to snap him back to reality, and his eyes off of her.

"Y-yeah." He said, looking her right in the eyes, deliberately so, and nonchalantly moving his hands to cover himself, his wand held between them.

"Do you have any socks, and.. can you, fix the red around my eyes?" She asked, not meeting his gaze.

"Socks, yeah, of course, uh... Here." He gestured as if to throw his wand, and when she moved her hands to intercept, he did.

She played the wand across her face, reducing the redness, and for good measure used it to further mess her hair. "Thanks."

"You really don't have to thank me. I haven't done anything near enough to work off the damage I've done -- and I never will." He replied, handing her a pair of grey socks and taking his wand back.

She nodded slightly, before moving over to the bed, sitting down, and pulling the socks on.

"Granger, look..." He paused, and she could see he was chewing on a question. "Do- do you want me to curse you, just until breakfast is over? My parents are going to be-"

"Yes." She replied, seeing that her answer surprised him. "I know what I said, yesterday, but... I, I'm not sure I'm ready for this yet. I- I'm aware of everything I do when I'm under, so, if you put me under again I can, I don't know, learn how to behave."

He toyed with his wand, clearly uncomfortable with the concept. "Are you sure? I won't know when to drop it if you want me to, you'll -- well, you'll just have to wait."

"I'm sure. What was it you said? We're going to have to start trusting each other sooner or later." She replied, looking at him.

He nodded and raised his wand, pointing it straight at her. "I'll speak to you soon." He said, emphasizing the 'you'.

She nodded.

"Imperio."

~~~

She watched as he lowered his wand, all of her worries, concerns, and fears washing away, serene calm filling her from head to toe.

"I hate this..." He muttered under his breath.

"Draco?" She asked, not sure she heard him right. What did he hate?

"Nothing. Let's go to breakfast, shall we?" He said gesturing to the door.

She smiled and nodded, standing up and heading for the door. Reaching the dark wood, she waited, then falling in behind him as he pulled it open and stepped out, leading her toward the kitchen.

Heading down to the first floor, she paced in to the kitchen to see Mr and Mrs Malfoy already sitting, each with a cup in their hands. As she entered they both abruptly ended their conversation before looking over at her, their eyes shifting from their son. She saw a twinge of annoyance flash into their expressions, but she couldn't figure out why they were upset.

"Can't she put something more substantial on?" Narcissa tutted, returning to her cup.

"No. My clothes don't fit her, and the Dark Lord failed to provide her with a travel case." Draco replied, moving over, grabbing two cups and pouring coffee into each. "I will send Whittle to source her some clothing today." He continued, flicking his gaze over to Whittle who, not being in his parents field of vision, smiled warmly and nodded before replying.

"O-of course, Master Malfoy, i-if Mister and Mrs Malfoy don't object." She said, returning to preparing breakfast.

"Of course we don't object," Lucius asserted, acerbically, "If she's going to be living under this roof, she needs to at least look acceptable. She may be a mudblood, but under my roof, she'll need to try to drag herself up from the dirt."

His words, well she obviously understood them, but they didn't make any sense. Especially given how she currently looked.

"Do I not look acceptable?" She asked, looking down at herself, wearing only a shirt, open robe, Y fronts, and socks. She then moved her gaze over to Draco as he moved toward her holding two cups of coffee. "You liked the way I look, from what I saw." She mused aloud, reaching out for the cup, thinking back to his reaction to her stepping out of the bathroom just a few minutes earlier.

She watched as a minor flush of red filled his cheeks, before it vanished and an amused smile spread across his face. Quickly suppressing it, he adopted an attitude more in-keeping to what his parents seemed to have. "Quite," he began, and she immediately felt a sense of justification wash through her, mingling with the pervasive sense of happiness, "but my father is right. We can't have you parading around the Malfoy home like some overly comfortable guest," he paused, she saw his expression deliberately soften, her assuming he didn't really mean what he was saying, "you are, staff, for lack of a better phrase. You will dress accordingly. Flatteringly, as when working for this family; you represent this family, but... Still, very clearly staff."

"Ah, I see. Yes, that makes sense. I'll let Whittle take my measurements after breakfast then, shall I?" She replied, not pushing him on his, she was sure, disingenuous comments.

She moved over, following Draco, and sat down at the table next to him, cradling her cup and gently blowing the liquid.

She sat, feeling Narcissa's eyes drilling into her, but she didn't mind. Thinking back, to everything that had happened since she arrived, she couldn't believe how she'd behaved. Arguing with Draco, wanting him to sleep on the couch, crying earlier... It was just so strange. Everything was great. She smiled and sipped the coffee Draco had gotten her.

"So," she said cheerfully, looking up from her cup at Lucius. "How are the things at work, Mister Malfoy?" She asked, slightly perplexed at his reaction.

"None of your business." He sneered. You're here to do a job, just keep quiet and out of the way.

"Oh, yes. To provide Draco with children, yes? A fun job, at least parts of it. I must admit to being a bit nervous about the whole childbirth aspect, but the getting pregnant should be very enjoyable." She paused, ignoring the stunned expressions on Draco's parents before looking over at Draco himself. "I can definitely think of worse fates. I'm very lucky."

She saw, out of the corner of her eye, Narcissa's expression shift to fury, but before she could speak, Draco interrupted. "Granger. Let's not talk about such things in the presence of my parents. Even cursed, and a mudblood, you could at least show some decorum."

She realised she had over stepped the mark, "Oh, oh okay. Sorry, sorry Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy. I- I can't seem to focus my thoughts very well."

"Yes, well, the Imperius Curse does tend to jumble things." Draco said, returning to his cup just as Whittle brought over four plates of full English breakfast.

She nodded, turning to her plate.

Breakfast was delicious, as she had expected from a meal in the Malfoy house -- one that had been prepared to their exacting standards, and was also rather short. Lucius and Narcissa excused themselves. Almost immediately after finishing their meal. Lucius paused before leaving and looked over at Draco.

"I'll be heading to the Ministry today, will you be joining me?" He asked.

"Not today father. I'd rather continue my research." Draco replied, placing his silver cutlery together on the plate before looking back at his father. "I hope it goes well, and I will likely join you later in the week -- after Granger has adjusted to her place here."

"Very well." Lucius answered curtly, before turning and leaving.

A few minutes passed before, after downing the last of her, very good, coffee, she looked across to see Draco smiling at her, though his eyes were sad.

"What's wrong, Draco?" She asked, reaching over and taking his hand. "Did I mess up?"

He laughed weakly, "No. Not at all. Come on, let's get you measured for some clothes and, well, I can have a bath while you are doing that."

"Oh, I'll help." She replied, quickly standing up, eager to do something to help.

He laughed again, "I think you might change your mind when we get back there." He chuckled.

She didn't quite understand what he meant, but she followed him, eager to help, and do whatever he asked of her.

She followed him back into his bedroom, before she immediately swept passed him heading for the bathroom, though she stopped when she heard him speak.

"Granger. Where are you going? Whittle will be here soon to measure you." He asked, looking at her.

"To run your bath." She answered, gesturing over her shoulder.

"Oh, for pity's sake." He sighed, flicking his wand forward and removing the curse from her.

She had to catch herself as the sudden change in mental state shook her, but after a second she was looking back up at Malfoy and hauling the robe she was wearing closed to afford her a semblance of modesty.

"Sorry, about what I said. I didn't mean it, but I had to say it -- if I didn't they'd suspect something and-" He began, stepping forward, but then halting himself as she interrupted.

"No. No, it's fine, I get it. I, uh, thanks for telling me to shut up, too. Else I would likely have continued rambling on about... Well, getting, you know... Pregnant, and then I probably would have died from embarrassment." She said, shifting uneasily on the spot. "Look, about what I said, about the whole-" it was now her turn to stop as he interrupted her.

"No, no. It's fine, you don't have to explain. I know you didn't mean it, I mean, of course you didn't. Me and you? I mean, there's no way you'd think... It's just that bloody curse making you say things. You don't need to worry, I don't take any of it to heart." He flustered, her embarrassment as to the situation seemingly being contagious.

"Yeah, yeah. Exactly. It just makes you say stupid stuff, anything, in some attempt to make whoever cast it happy." She lied, but thankful of Draco's ignorance.

Ignorance wasn't exactly a fair descriptor, she had to admit. Even she'd been partially stumped by what the Imperius Curse actually did, and it wasn't really until she'd been subjected to it that she really understood. It was a commonly held belief that it simply put you under the control of the caster, and you were forced to work against your will... But that wasn't exactly accurate. The Imperius Curse made the victim, made her, feel like everything was right and perfect in their life, and that, in her case, Draco was the most important person in her life. She was, when under, the happiest she could ever remember being. She had no worries, no concerns, no fears... No inhibitions. Secrets and lying, those were things she would happily do for him while cursed, but only if he told her to, or implied she should. He hadn't, so, feeling as though everything was right in the world, she felt no need to keep secrets, or lie about how she felt.

She never wanted anyone to experience this curse first hand, but never had she thought she would feel so much relief that Draco Malfoy hadn't.

What she'd said, about having sex with Draco, about her likely enjoying it, and admitting that she was quite lucky as to her assigned fate, was all true. She consoled herself that the attraction she felt was new, and purely physical -- as, he was really very easy on the eyes, but still... She hated herself for it, but she'd hate it even more if Draco knew. She couldn't live with the shame if he knew, and then there was the guilt she'd feel if he knew, the guilt over Ro-

She shook her head, dislodging the thought.

"Yeah. So, don't feel you need to counter everything you say while you're under. I know not to take it seriously." He shrugged, though she caught a hint of disappointment in his expression. "Anyway, Whittle should likely be here soon to take your measurements. Feel free to tell her exactly what sort of styles and cuts you'd like -- but, of course, remember you're a... Well... Staff, because I can't stomach saying that phrase anymore." He said, emphasizing the 'that'. "In the meantime, I'll run me a bath. Despite what my parents, and that fucking psychopath, say -- you are not my slave. You're a guest, an unwilling one, yes, but my guest regardless." He didn't smile, she assumed because he hates the situation as much as she did. Instead he just nodded slightly before moving passed her and disappearing into the bathroom.

Seconds later she heard the sound of rushing water. She'd enjoyed a bath in his bathtub yesterday. She hadn't just had a bath, she'd enjoyed it. His bath was large, not massively so, but still slightly larger than standard -- or so it had seemed to her, though she may have simply been lost in it, seeing as she hadn't had a bath in, well, longer than she couldn't remember. What it did have, that definitely was not standard, was an additional spout. One supplied water of whatever temperature was desired, but the other seemed to produce a thoroughly perplexing mixture of bubble bath and relaxing oils into the water. It had been just incredible.

He stepped back out, unbuttoning and throwing his emerald pajama top onto the bed, leaving him bare chested in front of her again -- doing nothing to help the conflicted attraction she already felt.

Running her eyes over every line, she paid extra attention to the faint scars that laced his skin. That was until he reached out to open the wardrobe and her eyes caught the Dark Mark on his forearm. She was reminded of her own mark, the one Draco's aunt had given her.

Likely sensing her eyes on him, he paused and looked back at her, catching her staring. Luckily for her, he assumed it was due to the mark, which he immediately covered ashamedly.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have stared." She said, looking away and moving to sit on the bed to wait for Whittle.

"I hate it, but I can't very well remove it... In fact, I'm not even sure it's possible to remove." He mumbled.

"It's not. Only Voldemort can remove it, and I doubt he will, no matter how nicely you ask. Bit like mine." She replied, rubbing the spot on her forearm which had the word mudblood carved into it. It could have been removed, once, with dittany -- but it was too old now. It had healed naturally, which meant the scar was as good as permanent.

"I'm sorry. I- I can't say it enough, Granger. I really am-" He began, before she interrupted.

"No. You'll never feel like you've said it enough, and maybe you should spend the rest of your life apologizing for what you did... But I don't think so. You may not have been under the Imperius Curse, Malfoy, but you may as well have been for all the choice you had." She said, looking back over at him, meeting his eye, "I know you want to apologize, I know you want to say you're sorry, a thousand times, maybe a thousand more after, so I won't tell you stop... But you don't need to, Malfoy, not to me -- not for me." She said, earnestly, before looking back down.

She could see him, out of her periphery, she saw him stand for a few moments, as if he was looking for something to say -- but, evidently coming up empty, soon returned to he wardrobe. Looking out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pick out another finely tailored suit, before taking it and moving back into the bathroom.

A few minutes passed before a knock sounded on the door. She stood up, and did her best to adopt the mannerisms she'd had over breakfast. She tried to suppress her worries, her concerns, her guilt, and will up some sense of faux happiness. Putting on a slight smile, she moved over to the door and pulled it open.

"Mi-Miss Granger." Whittle smiled, looking up at her. Hermione immediately allowed herself to relax, smiling sincerely at Whittle before stepping aside and letting her in.

Whittle walked in, waiting for her close the door, before revealing the tape measure in her hand, as well as a sheet of parchment. "May Whittle take your measurements?"

"Of course you can." She smiled, shedding and discarding the robe.

She stood, waiting for Whittle to start. "You said you worked at Hogwarts?" She asked, looking down at her.

"Yes, Miss. Before the Dark Lord changed everything. Then Whittle was sent to serve the Malfoys." She replied, moving forward before throwing the tape measure up, only for it to float and move by Whittle's thoughts alone.

"You- You said that," she lowered her voice, "that Malfoy, Draco," she gestured loosely toward the door, "had been, like, nice to you from day one?"

"Yes, Miss." Whittle paused, looking up at her, "Whittle doesn't know what Master Malfoy was like at Hogwarts, she only know what she has seen. M-Master Malfoy is... Sad. Deeply sad, and angry, at himself. He -- Whittle believes, he is trying to make amends but, he believes it is impossible."

"Depressed. Depression." Hermione muttered, Whittle returning to work. The tape measure fluttering around her as Whittle traced words and numbers on the parchment with her finger, blank ink appearing in the sheet out of nowhere.

"Yes, Miss."

"Why did you stay? After he freed you."

"Whittle already said. Because Master Malfoy needs people around him, to give him a reason to stay good, to be... To be a light for him, in a world of darkness. Whittle isn't very good at being that, but you, Miss. Whittle can help you, help him." She paused again, meeting her eye.

Hermione scoffed, "I don't think so, Whittle. I can barely stand him."

Whittle smiled, holding her gaze for a second longer than required before finally replying. "Of course, Miss."

Hermione recognised the inflection of her words from how she had spoken to Draco earlier that morning. A smile tugged at her mouth, and she shook her head, taking her eyes away from the elf and allowing her to finishing taking her measurements.

"Does Miss Granger have any preferred styles or colours?"

"Honestly, and I don't know exactly what counts as befitting of representing the Malfoys," she began, sarcastically, "but honestly. I loathe being cold, and I feel the cold quite a lot. So, warm clothes. I prefer to keep my legs covered," she said gesturing uncomfortably at her current state of dress, "so trousers, leggings, tights -- that sort of thing. As for olours... Violet, I love violet. Pinks, browns, blues."

"Anything else, M-Miss Granger?" She asked, the tape measure collapsing and her tucking it into her makeshift outfit.

"Underwear, bras." She said, practically instantly.

"I had already assumed as mu-uch." She replied. "I'll be back as soon as I have sourced you some clothing, Miss."

"Thank you, Whittle." Hermione smiled, watching her move toward the door, before vanishing behind it.

Boredom rapidly set in as she found herself alone. She moved over toward the window and looked out onto the grounds in front of the house. A light dusting of snow covered everything, making the entire sight beautiful.

She didn't know how long she stood there, just looking, but it wasn't until the bathroom door sounded that she snapped back to the present and turned around.

Draco stepped out, fully dressed with the exception of shoes. She couldn't help but drink in every detail of how he looked in that moment. Fine black suit, pristine white shirt, no tie, with an open collar. He held his wand pointing toward his hair, a jet of warm air undoubtedly streaming from the tip as he pulled a comb through, styling his hair as usual.

"Give me strength." She whispered, definitely quietly enough for him to not hear.

As she watched, unable or unwilling to look away, he flicked his wand, cutting the stream of air, before throwing the brush into the bathroom, flicking his wand toward it, catching it in midair, and lowering it gently into place near the sink.

"Granger..." He began, turning to look at her, her shifting her gaze to appear as though she hadn't been staring, "Are you wearing my cufflinks? I can't remember."

She quickly looked down to see that his cufflinks were indeed still attached to the shirt she was wearing, as it was the one he had worn yesterday.

"Yeah, wait up." She replied, twisting and slipping them free and then moving over toward him.

He held his hand out to take them, but instead she reached passed his hand, and grabbed his cuff, before sorting it and threading the cufflink into place on one, and then the other. Grabbing the face of it, she shifted it again to a correct its placement, before pushing his hands down to his sides, brushing his shoulders, and stepping back to look at him, smiling. "There you go."

His gaze dropped, before looking back up. "Has, uh, Whittle been yet?"

"Been and gone." She answered, stepping back and moving toward the bed. "So, I know the staying was my idea, and you don't really like-" she began, before being interrupted.

"That- that was then. I was, you turning up threw me, I was panicking. I... No, you staying is the best idea we've got so far. So, I'm happy you're here, Granger." He said, sincerity in his eyes.

She nodded, before continuing, "But, I'm going to need something to do, Malfoy." She said, sitting down on the bed before becoming very conscious of what that implied.

"Well, you've got a brilliant mind." He began, before pacing somewhat nervously, "I've been studying, since Hogwarts, dark artefacts. I know-" he paused, looking at her, "big surprise. But," he looked away again, "dark magic is... Fascinating and, once you start studying it, it's just... Hard to stop. Anyway, not only is it fascinating it's bloody complicated. Maybe you'd find it a challenge, something to focus on?"

She looked at him, thankful his mind hadn't gone where hers had, and she continued looking until he looked back at her. "What sort of stuff? Don't you work?" She asked after he finally looked at her, rememberinf what he'd said over breakfast about research, and what Lucius had said about going to the Ministry.

"Pft. Why would I work? I don't need the money, the Malfoy family is so wealthy we couldn't possibly spend it all. My father only works in the Ministry because he likes having actual power over people, as opposed to just societal importance. Me? I have no interest in that" He said, "As for what artefacts. An assortment. Nothing too powerful. Just some finds that caught my eye in Borgin & Burkes. If you'd rather not, I'm sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something."

A thought suddenly burst into her mind, possibilities spilling into every corner. "No, that um, that sounds like just the thing."

He paused, a surprised expression on his face. "Well, I wanted to offer -- but, I didn't think for a moment that you'd accept." He said.

"Oh, was it not a genuine invitation?" She asked.

"No, no, of course it was, I just... Yeah, I just think you'd take me up on it." He clarified.

"Well, once upon a time, I wouldn't have... But given that dark magic seemed to win the day, evidently I, nor anyone else working against Voldemort, really understood it all that well. The more study I learn, the better." She said, standing up. "So, where?"

"Well, you might want to get something else on. I know you're uncomfortable in that." He said, gesturing to her current state of dress.

"Yeah, but Whittle won't be back until who knows when, and, well, what else is there?"

"Why don't you put on the black pajamas you wore last night. Give you a bit more... Coverage, might be a bit more comfortable." He replied. "I know you don't like being dressed like that, not in front of me anyway."

He was right, she didn't, but it was more out of guilt. When she'd stepped out that morning, and saw his reaction to her, that fact she excited him, well it was hard not to feel good about that. That combined with the concept of, if he really did see her like that -- which he seemed to, teasing him, was kind of brilliant. Still. The last she wanted was to send messages she didn't mean. She liked being considered attractive, obviously... Everyone did. But she didn't want Malfoy to think that she was interested in him. As she wasn't.

She wasn't. She thought again, reaffirming it to herself.

"Yeah. That's probably a good idea." She replied, "Won't be long." She moved passed him, happily moving closer to him, which was a considerable change compared to yesterday, grabbed some more of his underwear from the wardrobe, and then went into the bathroom.

She closed the door, then turned to look at herself in the mirror.

"What are you doing?" She whispered, asking herself, concern on her face.

She ran the sink, filling it with hot water before setting about washing herself. Splashing the water over her face, she looked back at her reflection.

"You're trying to make light of a shitty situation, I get that, but you can't do this. You can't tease, or play, or risk anything like that. Besides, girl, he's Draco Malfoy. He looks good, sure, but he's horrible. Just because he's had an attack of conscious doesn't change that. Focus." She said to herself, before continuing, then shedding her current outfit and pulling on what she wore last night with the exception of clean underwear. "I can't wait for Whittle to bring me some actual clothes." She moaned, before cleaning her teeth and stepping back into the bedroom, once again covered in unflattering boys pajamas.

Unflattering was probably for the best. The less he looked at her or... Or got excited over her, the better.

He looked over at her, pausing while part way through replacing the bedding he used, making the bed, and piling all the old laundry up for Whittle. Doing it all with his wand. She assumed that, prior to him freeing her, he would have left all of this for her to do -- but given what Whittle had said, maybe his didn't. She didn't know. Still, looking at him, she saw his eyes run up and down her again, just like before.

"Ah, I'll grab this stuff." She said, stepping back into the bathroom before bundling up the clothing in there, including the brown robes she had arrived in. She then returned to the bedroom again, and dumped them into the pile Draco had made.

After the room was put right, she looked at Draco.

"Right. Shall we?" He said, gesturing to the door.

She nodded and moved to follow him. As they stepped out, she saw Narcissa moving toward the stairs from her room.

"Where are you of to?" She asked, looking at Draco, then at her " and where is the mudblood going?"

Draco hadn't put her under again, so she didn't have the curse to fill her with a sense of bliss. Still, she managed to maintain her composure and simply smile at Draco's mother. "Draco was going to let me help him in his studies, Mrs Malfoy. He said we couldn't spend all day in bed, and there were other things I could be useful for. Isn't that nice?"

Narcissa shifted her gaze to Draco. " You think it's wise to let her toy around with dark magic artefacts? She was our enemy not so long ago."

"Yes, she was. But now she'll attend to my whim. Granger," He paused, looking at her, "fix my belt."

She had turned to look at him, so Narcissus couldn't see her expression, but it was a loaded one. She knew exactly why he had given her that instruction, and she wanted him to know she knew. Still, it was a good test to make sure she could react without hesitation -- and she did. "Oh, is it loose? Sorry, Draco."

She knelt down in front of him, falling to her knees right in front of him before tugging his belt loose. She then immediately tightened it -- in fact, just to get back at him, pulling it slightly too tight, before refastening it.

He wants her down here? Fine. She can play that game, she thought, despite her mind telling her it was a really bad idea.

She looked up, not so much with her face... Just her eyes. Locking his eyes with her large brown ones, keeping her face facing forward as if she were- she tried to remove the thought, but it was too late, and she was already feeling suitably flustered at the notion. "Is that better?"

"Much." He replied, him now being the one struggling to play the part a he looked down on her, her expression and position charged with all manner of energy.

She smirked, before adopting her normal, hollow smile, and standing back up.

He cleared his throat and adjusted his stance. "Granger has a brilliant mind. Just using her body would be a massive waste. Besides, the things I've had her do, I'm positive she is well and truly under the curse." Draco said, looking back at his mother.

"I don't want to hear it, just... I don't trust her." Narcissa replied, waving her hand dismissively and proceeding downstairs.

Hermione fell in step behind Draco as he moved to the highest floor of the manor. Pulling open a door, he stepped into a room that was filled with all manner of books, and obscure items. She followed him in, and he closed the door before speaking. "Did you have to tighten it so much? I do need my legs." He chuckled, immediately loosening his belt, sighing in relief.

"Well, did you have to ask me to do something so-" she began.

"So, what? It was a simple task." He replied.

"We both know why you did that." She rolled her eyes, but was unable to keep the smile from spreading across her face, so she turned away instead.

Stepping further into the room, she began to notice items she recognised. The Hand of Glory, an enchanted, seemingly mummified, hand that would, if holding a candle, shed light visible only the person holding the hand. An intriguing object, to the say the least.

There was another that she recognised, as well. A music box from Grimmauld Place. She knew what that one did, too. Opening it made anyone who heard it incredibly tired.

There were two others that caught her eye. A sphere, just about the right size to fit in her hand. She didn't know what it was, but it was fascinating. No where near as much as the other item though.

A small box, black with gold trim, black silk filling it. But what inside was, just incredible. She had no idea what it was, it just seemed to be a midnight black object, about the same shape and size as a large strawberry. It wasn't reflective, she noticed as she stepped closer to it, nor was it not... It seemed to swallow light, but simultaneously she could swear she saw specks of reds and pinks flash to the surface, but when she looked again, they were gone.

"What is this?" She asked, stepping closer again, reaching out to pick up the object that seemed to call and pull at her attention. She didn't know what it was, but she desperately wanted to.

As her hand grew closer, she could feel a pressure build within the center of her chest and between her legs. The sensation simply made her more keen to know everything about this thing. Just before her fingers reached it, she heard Draco call out.

"Don't touch that!" He exclaimed, the box suddenly slamming shut and hurtling through the air to land firmly in his grasp.

The pressure in her chest, her mind, and between her legs vanished in an instant, though a gnawing curiosity remained, gently pulling at her attention. "What? Why, what is it?" She asked, her mind clearer now that it had been, her suddenly realising how clouded it had become.

"It's called a WitchBane." Draco, said placing the box on the table near him and opening it, before picking up the object.

"What does it do?" She asked, her eyes once again dragged to the object, it tugging at her, willing her to take it.

"I don't know. I only know the story. Why did you head straight for it?" He asked, moving it around and looking intently at her.

No matter where he moved it, her eyes would go back to it. She wasn't glue to it, she looked at him when he spoke... But when she had nothing else to focus on, it was where her eyes rested. "I don't know. I saw it and I just had to touch it. It's fascinating, though I don't know why. I, I just want to know more about it. You said there was a story?"

"Yeah, but I don't know if it's true, and as far as I can see it doesn't do anything. Not to me, anyway. I've theorised it only affects witches, hence the name, but until now I wasn't sure it actually did anything." He began, placing the object in the box before closing it. "The story goes that a dark wizard was in a feud with a rival witch, or was being hunted by a witch... It's not clear. Regardless, the story is that he created this, the WitchBane to rid him of her. It's isn't lethal, or so I'm lead to believe. Instead it seems to just enthrall a witches attention and just... Distract them. Make them not care about anything else."

"Why not just kill them? If they're a rival, or they were hunting him, and he was willing to go to such lengths as making this -- why not just make it kill her?" She asked, her mind clearer still, though still with an itching curiosity.

"Exactly. The story doesn't make much sense. As such, I don't want you touching it, just in case it does kill you. It was enchanted to target women, that can't be a good thing." He said, drawing his wand and aiming it at the box. She had to fight the urge to leap forward and stop him. She didn't want him to destroy it. "Evanesco." Red light danced across the object and it vanished. "There. Now it can't tempt, and/or hurt, you."

The second it was yanked by he spell into non-being, the curiosity she had about it vanished in a whisp of smoke. Then, her eye fell on the other object calling to her. "And that?" She asked, pointing to the palm sized sphere.

"That's harmless." Draco began stepping over and picking it up, before tossing it over for her to catch.

She held it, running her hands over the smooth surface and trying to look past her reflection to see exactly what it was.

"It's a Dark Curio. You must have heard of them. They come in all different shapes and sizes. They-" He began, before she interrupted him.

"Yeah. They inspire curiosity. They make anyone who sees one curious about it... But other than that, they don't do anything." She said, her memory dredging up information she had learned long ago. "I've never seen on before."

"Well, now you have." He smiled. "I imagine they were used as distractions, or bait for traps. They've had loads of recorded uses throughout history. Sometimes simply being put in a room so a guest would pick it up, enabling the owner to ask them to put it back... Putting the guest on the defensive. Clever little things."

She smiled at it, then tossed it back. "So, why do you have one?"

"I sourced that one as its properties seemed to coincide, at least partially, with the WitchBane." Draco answered, catching the Dark Curio and replacing it, "And that thing is infuriatingly difficult to decipher. The magic the WitchBane uses is similar, I've managed to deduce that much through study, but it seems targeted specifically at women, or maybe just witches... I don't know if it would work on Muggles. But the drawing sense of curiosity, though it seems is stronger than that of a Dark Curio, seems to be the only similarity these two objects share. There's definitely more to the WitchBane -- I'm just not sure what. Either way, I don't want you anywhere near it, it might kill you for all I know."

"I would say that I know what I'm doing, and tell you to stop patronising me, but that thing it -- I couldn't think straight so, maybe you're right." She replied, casting an eye around the rest of the room.

"So, I'm surprised you agreed to this, Granger. I didn't push it then, as it enabled me to continue doing what I wanted, but why are you really interested in studying dark artefacts?" Malfoy asked moving closer to her.

"I told you... Because my knowledge in that area is lacking." She said, looking over shoulder briefly while searching through the masses of book that were assembled here, but seemingly coming up short of the one she wanted.

"I don't know you very well, Granger -- which is a failing on my part. All those years at Hogwarts, wasted hating you when I could have... Should have, been getting to know you. But, I'm good enough at reading people to see through some things. You have an ulterior, or a more pointed, motivation than you are letting on. What is it?" He replied, parts of what he said striking at her -- emotionally.

"If I tell you, you won't like it. So maybe I shouldn't. If you know, you can't plead innocence or ignorance later." She said, looking through another pile book. "Do you have Secrets of the Darkest Art, or am I wasting my time looking through these?" She followed up, pulling open a drawer to find it empty, aside from a photo of a Hogwarts student that she, after a moment, recognised as Astoria Greengrass. "Astoria?" She asked, plucking the photo up.

"Yes," he replied sweeping over and snatching the photo, before replacing it and sliding the drawer closed, "and no. I don't. How do you even know about that book? It's really rare, and I can't find a copy of it anywhere... Save for Hogwarts, but even that was just a rumour." He asked leaning on the desk in front of the drawer.

"It wasn't a rumour. Dumbledore kept it away from prying eyes. I... Borrowed it when we were... well before. But have obviously since lost it. I had hoped that, given your family's connections, wealth, and... Well, darker mindsets, you may have it." She answered, still somewhat curious about the photo of Astoria.

"Why do you want want it?" He asked.

"It contains information that I can use." She replied, "But I'll just have to see if you've got anything else that might be of help."

She leaned around him, his cologne filling her mind briefly, before she snatched up his copy of Magick Moste Evile and slumped down on the leather chair nearest the center desk.

"Stop being evasive, Granger. Why do you want that book? What are you really after?"

"You'll just get all pissy if I tell you..." She sighed, looking up from the book, meeting his eye.

"Granger..."

"Fine. I want to do more research into Horcruxes." She said matter-of-factly, laying the book in her lap. The look on Draco's face rather clearly spoke to fact he had no idea what a Horcrux was, and seeing as she doubted Voldemort advertised the secret as to his immortality, she wasn't surprised. "They're items, items constructed by Voldemort to contain a fragment of his soul. They're why he's immortal." She explained, watching his expression drop. "You see, I said you wouldn't like it."

"What? That I wouldn't like you pursuing the fool's errand that you barely survived last time?! You're damn right. You just came back into my life, Granger, I didn't think you'd be in such a rush to leave it again. Chasing this, again, will just get you killed." He exclaimed.

"'Came back into your life'" she mocked, "I was never in it before, and I'm hardly in it now, Malfoy. I'm a prisoner in your life, and who knows how long I'll be able to stay like this. It's day two and I can barely stomach being here," she replied, standing up, sending the book thumping to the floor, "I don't know what you expect to happen here," she continued, gesturing between the pair of them, "but I'm not going to sit around and allow that psychopath to build a lasting empire on the blood of my friends." She saw his expression drop as she, again, questioned his motivations, before hardening again.

"I don't expect anything from you, you ungrateful little-" he stopped, she saw him wince at what he'd been going to say, before continuing, "I... I had hoped that you'd make the most of still being alive, not rush off back down the same path that killed Potter, killed Weasley, killed nearly everyone else that stepped on it, and nearly killed you! And yes, yes, I'd hoped that, in some way, I might use you to atone for my past -- that by helping you, trying to give you as good a life as I could, as my money and position could, that I might earn some semblance of peace and maybe push the nightmares back, just enough to have a few peaceful nights... to not be wracked with guilt every moment. I- I'm not going to stop you, Granger, but I can't help you, I can't help you kill yourself. This is- this is just suicide with extra steps." He turned and looked across the desk, away from her.

"This is me making the most of being alive, Malfoy." She replied, stepping forward, "I'm doing something with my life, not just existing. Continuing to exist is hardly worth the effort it takes-"

"You continuing to exist is worth everything. The moment I saw you alive... I'd never been happier. You had survived. Someone who deserves to live was actually alive, and if you die... Then he really has won." Malfoy replied, wheeling on the spot to look back at her.

"He has won. Me being alive doesn't change that. But beating him? Which we can do. That would change everything. We were close, Malfoy. We were so close. You've no idea. If I... If we could just do the last few steps, he'd be gone, for good this time."

"How can you be so sure?" He said, looking at her. "How can you be so sure he won't have some other way of coming back?"

"Because- because of what we did. Agh, if I had that book I could show you. He's split his soul into these objects, these Horcruxes. But every time he did, he damaged his soul. He only has a tiny fragment of it left now. The bit residing in Nagini, we destroyed the others. If we-" she began.

"Nagini? What, the giant, indestructible, murderous snake that Voldemort keeps next to him at all times? That Nagini?" Draco interrupted, "Maybe you didn't notice, but every spell loosed at thing just bounces off."

"And that didn't strike you as weird?" Hermione replied.

"Of course it struck me as weird. It's an indestructible snake."

"It's a horcrux. Only certain things can destroy it, the most destructive of things." She began, "Fiendfyre, or Basilisk venom. We were using the sword of Gryffindor but-"

"But clearly it didn't work."

"It did work, for your information. But... We just got unlucky. If Neville's blow had struck, that would have been it but... Well, a sentient, fully mobile, and lethal horcrux is a bit more complicated than just a book, or a locket, or whatever." She affirmed, not liking having her intellect questioned, especially when she knew she was right.

"So, if you know all this, why don't we just Fiendfyre Nagini and be done with it? Why do you need the book?"

"Because, it's been quite a while. He may have made more Horcruxes... I don't know if he can, though. I don't want to make a move without knowing as much as I can. That book is the only one with any great amount of information on the subject." She replied, sitting back down.

"I still don't like it. So many people have died trying to do this... I don't want you to just be another graveless victim." He said, looking away from her.

"I don't want to be either. But... But I can't just do nothing. All those people died, Harry... Ron... It can't have been for nothing. I can't let it be for nothing." She said softly, looking over at him.

The silence that followed lasted for a while. She went to speak a few times, but could never think of anything to say. The weight was lifted from her, however, when he finally spoke.

"I'll see if I can find a copy." He said, still not looking at her.

"Thank you, Draco."

"I can't promise I'll be able to, or how long it'll take. If it contains what you say it does, I doubt Voldemort is too keen on it being in circulation, but... I'll try." He said, careful to temper her expectations it seemed, but she was already well aware of the potential problems.

She spent the next few hours, Draco slowly warming to the idea of helping her, and eventually actively participating, looking through the sizable collection of books he had collected. Unfortunately, though she expected as much, none of them covered the nature of Horcruxes, with the exception of a very brief, and unhelpful entry, in Magick Moste Evile.

Still, they kept at it until they were eventually disturbed by a knock at the door, and Whittle stepping in.

"Master Malfoy, Mi-ss Granger. I have placed the items you requested in your room."

"Thank you, Whittle." Hermione answered, truly thankful for being able to put on some proper clothes.

"Thank you, Whittle." Malfoy said as well, smiling at her.

She nodded, before stepping out, pulling the door closed behind her.

"Do you mind?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the door, really wanting to put something else on.

"No, let's go. There's nothing helpful in here anyway." He replied, closing the book he was skimming.

A few moments passed before they stepped into Malfoy's room again, the bed adorned with a dizzying assortment of paper wrapped packages. She swept over to the bed, more excited than she really should be, and began untying and opening the packages. Taking the contents and laying them out in what she assumed were the assembled outfits.

She was aware of Draco leaning on the wall, off to her side, checking out every garment she revealed -- and though she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had an opinion on every single one of them... He stayed quiet.

Whittle had rather outdone herself, she thought, looking over the collection of beautiful, but also warm and functional attire that Whittle had purchased. She was down to two packages now. One was a large, paper wrapped one, about the size of her torso. The other was smaller, though still fairly sized, and almost gift bag looking.

Assuming that one was the one that likely contained whatever underwear Whittle had procured for her, and deciding that she would rather look through that one without an audience, she grabbed the larger paper bound one and, untying the twine that held the package closed, pulled it open.

She had been wrong about her assumption.

As she peeled the paper back, her eyes, and Draco's, fell upon a beautiful collection of lingerie. A violet set catching her eye immediately. As she moved to cover them all again, she stopped. The damage was done, if she acted all bashful about it, it would only make everything more awkward. So, instead, she just chuckled out loud, picking up the violet set and holding them up for Draco.

"This wasn't quite what I had in mind when I said underwear." She said, trying to lean into the ridiculousness of the situation, regardless of how awkward she actually felt.

Taking her comment as a cue that his opinions were now solicited, Draco smiled and stepped forward, holding out his hand to take the set she was holding, while simultaneously grabbing one of the dresses from the bed.

Letting go, she saw him twist the bra in his hand until the tag became visible, while he also did the same to the dress.

"Yep. I thought that might happen, after the fact." He chuckled, offering the items back to her so she could see the tags. "Whittle has only ever purchased clothing for the Malfoy family, my mother specifically. My mother shops at Twilfitt and Tattings. It didn't occur to me until after she'd gone that she would likely head there."

"Twilfitt and Tattings are expensive..." She said, taking the garments back and seeing the store's name emblazoned within them.

"Yeah, they are. The clothing is really good quality though," he said holding his arm out to her. She ran her hand up the sleeve of his jacket and it was smooth as silk, "but their stock is somewhat... Pointed. You won't get just standard underwear there, or standard anything. So... You're going to be the best dressed 'staff member' in history." He chuckled, placing air quotes around staff member. "Every thing here is from Twilfitt and Tattings, and likely cost a fortune. A part of me had thought that Whittle would go by another store for some more functional underwear, but evidently it didn't occur to her."

"No, it did." She replied, seeing a smaller package wrapped inside the one she just opened. Inside was a handful of standard underwear and bras, in shades of pink and blue. Though she noted there weren't nearly as many as she had hoped.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. It had definitely occurred to Whittle, but given their discussion just before she left, Hermione was pretty confident that Whittle had purchased what she had, deliberately.

"Oh... I'll send her back out, or, in a few days we could just go get you some clothes of your choice." He said, looking from the very small collection of standard underwear, to Hermione.

"No." She replied before thinking. "It's fine. Besides," well, she had to lean into it now, "might be fun wearing this stuff. I've never worn lingerie before..." She thought for a moment about what she was saying, before adding, "Even if it just for me."

Grabbing a set of the standard underwear, and one of the more comfortable and warm looking ensembles, she moved to the bathroom and pulled it on. It fit perfectly.

The rest of the day went, for the most part, smoothly. Most of it was spent in Draco's study, so after getting herself dressed, and re-emerging from the bathroom to see that Malfoy had already made room for, and sorted and stored her clothing in a wardrobe, there wasn't too long left until dinner. Then, after that, she and Malfoy excused themselves to his room once again, their motives not being questioned by Narcissa or Lucius given what she was, as far as they knew, here for.

To pass the time before bed, Malfoy did something quite unexpected. He pulled out a set of Gobstones. It appeared, however, these weren't ordinary gobstones. They had been modified so as to not spray the loser with vile smelling liquid. Instead, Malfoy placed a shot glass opposite him, a shot glass next to him, and a bottle of Gigglewater between them, before sitting on the floor and gesturing her to do the same.

"Really?" She asked, looking at him as he set up the Gobstones.

"Unless you have something else you'd rather be doing?" He replied, looking back. "I was never one for this sort of thing when I was younger... Stupid games, that sort of thing. But given how bleak everything is right now... Well, it's better than nothing."

She couldn't argue with the logic, and it certainly beat sitting in a room bored, or sitting in a different room with Malfoy's parents. So, shrugging, she sat down.

"Rules are pretty simple, assuming you are familiar with Gobstones already. Instead of getting sprayed, though, it'll simply tell you drink." Draco said, offering her the first go.

"After you." She said, smiling at him.

Over the next hour or so, she took close to a dozen shots, to Draco's five, and had laughed so much her diaphragm was starting to ache. She was pretty sure they weren't playing to any understanble rules, but she didn't care, she was having fun. He wasn't overtly good at distracting her, but he seemed particularly difficult for her to distract... More than anyone should be.

Laughing, after losing another point and taking another shot, she replaced her glass, which Draco filled back up, a small amount of the drink sloshing onto the floor. "Go on then." She waved her hand toward him to take his turn.

Grabbing one of his stones, she saw him blink trying to steady his, likely beginning to blur, vision. Just as he went to take his go, she spoke. "I turned you on this morning."

Draco fumbled, and his gobstone went wide. So wide, in fact, it bounced right passed her, eliciting a laugh from her.

"Drink!" She cried out, at the same time as all of her Gobstones.

"Granger?! That is not fair." He replied, downing the shot glass before laughing uncontrollably for a single second.

"Oh, you're going to talk about fair to the girl who's prisoner in your house?" She replied, chuckling as she refilled his glass, a sizable slosh spilling onto the floor.

"Okay, okay. Point taken, but that sop-story isn't going to carry you forever." He laughed, gesturing for her to take her turn.

"You can't complain. If you shake me, I slosh... You have hardly drank anything..." She paused, blinking hard as her alcohol soaked brain managed to produce a thought. "Oh, wait a minute! Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin -- you're cheating aren't you?" She pointed a finger at him.

"No. I would never." Draco replied, a mock-hurt expression on his face.

"What are you doing?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Well... I was always kind of good at Occlumency. And being able to control your thoughts and emotions makes it a bit easier to not be... distracted." He chuckled.

"I knew it! You cheater." She exclaimed, "You, you cheater. You have to take another a shot... For cheating."

"There's nothing in the rules about-"

"Drink!" She shouted, throwing her arms wide.

"Okay. Okay. I will take another shot," He began, lifting his glass, "but only because your circumstances as so pathetic."

"Fuck you, Malfoy." She grabbed her Gobstones and threw them at him, catching him right in the face just as he started laughing from the Gigglewater, a sight that made he burst out laughing, only for them both to laugh harder as all of Draco's gobstones filled the room with a chorus demanding they drink.

"Oww, ow. My sides are really starting to hurt." She protested, sitting back up after doubling over laughing.

"Yeah and, I think, we've both probably had more than enough." Draco chuckled, reaching over and replacing the cork on the nearly empty bottle. "We should probably get some sleep."

She nodded looking at the clock, it was very late. 

Stumbling, and narrowly avoiding stripping in front of Malfoy, as he had been lucid enough to close the bathroom door for her, she pulled on a violet night dress that, along with others, had been the contents of the gift bag looking package, and cleaned her teeth before falling into bed.

She slept for a good few hours, more than enough for her body to burn off a good portion of the alcohol, but something had woken her early, it was still dark.

She'd been dreaming about the WitchBane, and when she woke up she realised why. She could feel it, tugging at her again. Rolling over, trying to ignore it, she saw the bed beside her empty. She had half-expected Draco to be there, especially given how drunk they had both been. Sitting up, she instead saw him, fully dressed, unconscious on the couch. He hadn't even fished out a pillow or duvet -- instead just falling asleep.

Sitting up was a mistake, it engaged her mind fully and the pull of the WitchBane grew more intense. Malfoy's vanishment spell apparently ending when he fell asleep, explaining why she had dreamed about it.

Draco insisted it was bad, but how could he know? He doesn't even know what it does. She was always smarter than him, surely she could figure it out...

She looked up, at the ceiling, in the direction her curiosity was pulling her. Then she looked at the door.


	3. Chapter 3

[[[ Sorry for the delay. Real life. ]]]

**__________**

**Part Three.**

Something was wrong...

He woke up, blinking as his eyes adjusted to being used again so early. 

He sighed, and groaned in protest as he slid his legs from the couch and stood up. It was his own fault really, thinking he'd actually manage to sleep through with no duvet or pillow.

Snatching his wand from the table, he flicked it toward the wardrobe, which smartly opened, before he pulled and teased at the bedding, it floating out and toward the couch.

Stepping away from the couch and turning to face it, to allow the bedding access, his arm dropped to his side as he saw the bed empty. Quickly raising his wand, and igniting the tip in a brilliant flare of light, he checked to make sure his eyes were not playing tricks on him, but sure enough, the bed sat empty. Keeping is wand aloft, he stepped over the now crumpled pile of bedding and moved hastily toward the bathroom.

He had no doubt she'd be livid if he barged in on her, but he knew the chances of her being in there, with the door ajar and not closed, were slim. His assumption was right, and as he leaned in, his wand casting pure white light over every surface, he found the room empty.

"Granger... Bad plan." He whispered, moving toward the bedroom door, worried what would happen if his parents caught her moving around the house alone, "where have you g-" his thoughts snagged on something, "oh shit."

He pulled the door open and quickly swept out before bounding up the stairs. He covered the distance quickly and soon arrived on the topmost floor, the door to his study, for lack of a better phrase, standing closed before him.

Grabbing the door handle he tore the door open and saw exactly what he feared was happening.

She was facing away from him, sitting, or more accurately, perched precariously on the edge of, the leather chair. He may not have been able to see her properly, but he knew what she was doing... And why. Off to her side was the box that should contain the WitchBane -- but it was sat empty.

"Oh for fuck's- Granger." He stepped forward, before she span in the chair to look at him.

The look in her eyes was one of desperation. Her nightdress was pulled up above her waist, her underwear was missing, and she was holding the WitchBane -- the strawberry shaped black object, and pressing it onto herself. It looked distorted, though he struggled to focus on it, instead of her, like it was vibrating.

"I said to leave it-" he began, before she interrupted him.

"I can't. P-please, Draco." She panted, looking at him hungrily, her cheeks flushed red, her hips rolling herself onto the WitchBane.

"Accio." He snapped, flicking the wand urgently at the object.

It was snatched from her hand, and flew into his in an instant. He caught it, feeling the vibration stop as it fell inert once again, it's surface slick, what with what Hermione had been doing with it.

"No. No! Give it back." Hermione called out, crossing the distance equally quickly, grabbing for it.

Draco was a fair bit taller, than her. Not by much, but enough that, by holding it aloft, he could stop her touching it again. "Granger, snap out of it. This thing is dangerous." He protested, trying to keep it away from her.

"Fine, fine, then you help me. Please, please Draco." She snapped in reply, immediately moving to tug at his belt with one hand, while her other grabbed his, already hard given the sight of her, penis.

"Fuck, Granger. No." He asserted, though part of him wanted nothing more than to give her precisely what she wanted -- he couldn't live with himself if he did, and he knew that, once the influence of WitchBane faded, she would never forgive him.

"Why not? I'm not blind, Draco. I see how you look at me." She hauled his belt free, but at that point Draco placed his hands on her shoulders and shoved her back.

By the time she recovered, and moved forward again, his wand was pointing at her chest.

"Imperio. Stop." He said, the spell washing over her.

Lowering his wand, he looked at her. She was standing there, as he'd told her to, but her hands were still fidgeting, gripping and knotting the hem of her nightdress.

"Please, Draco." She mewled.

"I can't, and you don't really want me to." He walked passed her, dropped the WitchBane back in the box and closed it. "Colloportus." The lock on the box engaged, strengthened by the magic he laced into it. "Why did you come here, tell me the truth."

"I felt it. The moment you fell asleep, it reappeared. Your spell must have ended when you stopped being conscious. It kept calling to me, I can't shake it. G-give it back, please." She pleaded.

"Well we know what it does now." He glanced back at the box, "Granger," he looked back at her, wanting so badly to tear the nightdress off of her. "Go back to my room."

"Draco, please." She protested, though she still moved.

"Quietly."

Whatever spell had been placed on the WitchBane was powerful. It wasn't overwriting the Imperius Curse... Granger was still doing as she was told, but she was willing to protest and voice her desires in contrary of his instructions -- which was certainly unusual for a person under the effects of the curse, Draco thought as he looked back at the box.

He might need to destroy it.

Steadying his breathing, and trying to will himself to calm down, he set his shoulders and followed Hermione.

By the time he stepped in his room, she was there, pacing along the foot of the bed, but the moment he walked in she turned to look at him. "Draco, Draco please. I can't stand it. You've got to help me."

"I'm going to." He replied, closing the door and stepping closer to her.

Her face light up at his words, and she grabbed her nightdress, moving to haul it over her head.

"No, Granger. Stop." He said, closing his eyes and trying will his failing self restraint to reassert itself.

"What?" She asked, lowering the nightdress back into place.

He looked up at her, focused on what he thought the magic might be, pointed his wand at her and spoke.

"Finite Incantatum."

Her behaviour didn't change. The desperate, hungry look in her eye didn't vanish. "Shit."

"Draco, just fuck me. It's what I'm here for anyway, only now I want it." She pleaded, though unable to physically act against his wishes.

"No, you don't. That bloody thing just makes you think you do... Look, what if you just, take care of yourself -- maybe that will end it."

She went to step forward, but couldn't. "Draco, I've already cum three times-" her words clawing at him, ripping huge sheets of his self-restraint away, "it doesn't help. Please," her eyes welled up, and her words were bleeding desperation, "Please, Draco."

"Fucking dammit." He hissed, raising a hand to block his view of her, as well as rub his temples.

The silence between them stretched, only broken by the occasional, almost pained, inhalation by Hermione, before she eventually spoke again, just a single whispered word.

"Please."

Draco exhaled, clamped his eyes shut -- convinced he'd only regret this, but commited to do as little damage as he could. "Fine. L-lay down, keep your nightdress on and don't try to take the initiative or anything."

"Yeah, yeah okay." She replied, excitement and relief sparking in her voice as she practically leapt onto the bed.

"I'm sorry, Granger. I- I'm sorry." He said as he moved over and laid down on her right.

He could feel his dick straining at his trousers, and could feel his precum beading at the tip, but he clenched his jaw and just slid his hand down her side until he touched the skin of her leg, the slight touch eliciting a gasp from her. He ran his hand across her leg to her inner thigh, before bringing it up under her nightdress.

It wasn't his first time doing this. He and Pansy had messed around during their days at Hogwarts, and she hadn't been one to suffer fools, so he had a firm grasp on exactly what he need to do.

The moment his fingers touched her, he was shocked by exactly how wet she was. The desperation in her voice, the hunger in her eyes, it all seemed a good deal more genuine when he felt how wet she was.

The gasp that left her mouth at the moment he touched her, was like music to his ears, and he hated that he was finding it so hard to not just give her what she was asking for... But he knew she'd never forgive him if he did.

He pulled his fingers up her folds, listening intently to every shudder and quake in her breathing, before her reached her clit and dragged his middle finger firmly across it.

"Fuck. Yeah, yeah, yeah, Draco." She gasped, both her arms lacing around his left, which he was using to support himself, as she hugged tightly onto it.

He didn't want to penetrate her, not even with a finger. Well, he did, he desperately did, but he resolved not to. Instead he just fell back on his practice with Pansy, from years ago, and just started flicking, stroking, pressing, and rolling her clit with, and between, his fingers. From where his palm was resting, above her pussy, he could feel that she, clearly having had to have maintained it since arriving at Malfoy Manor, was cleanly shaven, and the feeling of her smooth skin under his was torture.

The sense of need pounding inside him was nigh-unbearable.

He quickened his pace, as well as the pressure he applied with each touch, and soon he felt her grip on his arms become vice-like, as a shudder rolled through her, a cry escaped her lips, and her muscles seized up.

He stopped, having to mentally haul his hand out from between her legs, and just laid there, tensing and relaxing his jaw until the young woman next to him returned to her senses.

She did, after a few seconds, and laid silently. Her grip on his arm loosened as she adopted a demeanor more akin to how he'd seen every other time she'd been under the effects of the Imperius Curse.

He got up and climbed off the bed. Looking at her, she looked back with a hollow smile.

"I'm so sorry, Granger. Please know that, I- I never wanted this, not- not like this, anyway. I, I'm so fucking sorry." He said, though he knew his erection was still perfectly visible to her in the dim light. "Just, get some sleep, Granger." He said, watching as she smiled, nodded, and rolled over to sleep as if nothing had happened, the curse would at least allow her to sleep, something he doubted she'd do if he released her from it now.

He turned and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind him before rapidly tearing his trousers open and taking himself in his hand.

He closed his eyes, remembering the way she looked, the way she smelled, and the way she felt, as he quickly and firmly pumped his hand along his length. It didn't take long before he felt an urgent pressure within himself, and then, moments later, ropes of cum fire from the tip of his cock as a sudden jolt of pleasure smashed up through him.

After he came, he stood for a few moments before daring to look at his reflection.

He didn't like who he saw.

Clenching his eyes, he snatched up his wand, cleaned the mess, corrected his clothing, and returned to the bedroom.

She was already asleep. Looking at her sadly, he pointed his wand at her, and removed the Imperius curse.

_

When he woke up again, it was still dull, but be knew it was morning. He hadn't slept for long, and his sleep had been far from comfortable as he had simply slid down the wardrobe door, and slept sat up against it.

For a few moments he couldn't bring himself to look across at the bed, through fear of what he might see. Eventually, however, he had to, and turning his head every so slightly to bring the bed out of periphery, and into focus, his eyes immediately settled on hers.

She was laying, on her side, head on the pillow, looking at him.

He readied himself to be on the recieving end of an explosion of rage, hate, and disgust... But it never came. She just looked at him, silent, her eyes soft, but slightly sad, and with a hint of shame.

He held her gaze, but only for a second, before he looked away. "I'm sorry."

She exhaled. "You need to stop apologizing for no reason." She replied, causing him to look back at her.

"No reason? Granger, I-"

"Did what I needed you to. I- I don't know if I should thank you, or apologize to you... Maybe both?" She mused, looking away, focusing instead on the duvet she was cuddling.

"Neither." He said, taken aback by her words.

"Y-you did far less than you could have, Draco... But exactly what was needed to break that bloody thing's hold on me. You could have, well, done anything -- but you didn't. You did what you could to give me a semblance of modesty, and you didn't... I'm sorry that I-"

"Don't." He interrupted, "Just don't. Let's just not talk about it."

She looked back at him, holding his gaze for a moment, "Okay..."

Silence descended between them again, and it stayed there until Hermione spoke. "Draco, can you... Can you move? I need new underwear, I seem to have," she sighed, "misplaced mine."

"Oh, shit, yeah. Of course." He replied, getting up and moving across toward the main door. Facing away from her, he heard her climb out of bed, and pull the wardrobe open. A second or so later, he heard it close.

"Done." He heard her say sheepishly, before he turned around.

"Look, I um... I said we shouldn't talk about it, and I mean it, but the WitchBane. Are you still-" he began, but stopped when she started shaking her head.

"No. Uh, when you vanished it yesterday it left my mind, but I guess that, when you fell asleep, it reappeared and well... Well, I woke up and all I could think about was it, I even knew where it was, I could feel it pulling at me. Have you vanished it again?" She asked, looking at him, composure returning to her as the conversation moved to a more academic one.

"No. No, I just sealed it in it's box. Why?"

"Because I can't feel it anymore, and I'm not drawn to it. Yesterday, when I saw it, I had to touch it, I just had to... And that need didn't end until I did. It was paused for bit, when you vanished it, but it never ended until I touched it. After that, it started vibrating and I... It made me need to-"

"I get it."

"No, no. Y-you don't. It made me need to, well, you know, but not matter how many times I did... It wasn't enough. But after you, well, did what you did, that need vanished and I've barely thought about the WitchBane at all." She moved to the foot of the bed and sat down, "I think that it takes a hold of you, well not you, you aren't a witch, but it takes hold of witch if she sees it, and makes them do... what I did, and need what I did, but then it's influence is spent... Unless they see it again. But I'm just speculating on that last bit, and I don't want to see it again, to find out."

"So your not going to rush off upstairs if I turn my back and... Well?"

"No. Thank god. I'm no longer drawn to it. That being said though, I am fascinated by it." She admitted, but paused when she saw the look he shot her, "Not like that. I- I never want to see that thing again, but... Well, we said the story surrounding it was... Flawed. And, now we know what it does, intimately so, I'm positive that that story isn't the case. What that thing does, doesn't track with what it was supposed to do, according to the story. I want to know where it came from, who made it, and why... And let's face it, until you manage to find that book I need, it's not like I have much else to do."

He opened his mouth to reply, but a knock at the door caused him to change his comment.

"Yes?" He called out, expecting and receiving Whittle's voice in response.

"B-breakfast is ready Master Malfoy... M-Miss Granger."

"Thank you, Whittle!" Hermione called out, before lowering her voice. "Don't, not that I for minute imagine that you would but, don't tell Whittle about what happened."

"Of course not... Wait, why? I mean, aside from the obvious." He replied, looking at her confusedly.

"She... Just trust me on this."

He narrowed his eyes, but soon remembered he was still wearing the same clothes he had worn all day yesterday. "I need to change."

He swept across the room, passing her, and flung the wardrobe open. Unbuttoning his shirt, his suit jacket still lying on the couch where he had left it. He fumbled with the cufflinks and then discarded the shirt on the ground. Reaching into the wardrobe, he grabbed a pajama top, grey, and hauled it over over his shoulders, before unfastening his belt, and trouser button, and pulling the zip.

"Turn 'round, would you?" He asked, gesturing vaguely behind him, though not looking. He really had no grounds to be bashful, or demand privacy, especially given what Granger had just been through.

He shoved his thumbs under the waistband, and pushed both his trousers and underwear down, before hauling the matching pajama bottoms on, and tugging his socks off.

He turned round to see her sitting on the foot of he bed, where'd she'd been before, looking at him.

Doing the last of the buttons up on his top, he looked at her, before narrowing his eyes at her level expression. "Did you look away?" He asked.

Looking at her, she just looked back at him, her face showing absolutely no emotion. She held his gaze for longer than necessary, deliberately letting the question hang, and hang... And hang. Before finally answering.

"Yeah."

He couldn't stop the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Moving passed her, her getting up and following, he opened the door to his room and proceeded toward the kitchen. "What did you mean by Don't tell Whittle?" He asked quietly, over his shoulder.

"I'll explain later." She replied.

"We can trust her, yeah?" He asked, seeking confirmation. He liked Whittle, always had. He hadn't had any time for Dobby, though that may have been a failing on his part, but Whittle -- he liked Whittle, and he trusted her.

"Yes. Yes we can trust her, at least, she's given me no grounds to not."

Draco stopped just out of earshot of the kitchen, the manor had a lavishly appointed dining room -- but it was only used for main meals and when entertaining. Breakfasts were nigh-exclusively held in the kitchen, where a smaller, more modest, dining table was also located. He turned to look at Granger, still remembering her cleaving to his arm as she-

"Right. Imperio." He whispered, dramatically gesticulating with his hands, but not actually casting the spell.

She nodded, closed her eyes, thought, and when she reopened them, her demeanor changed. She adopted a hollow smile, and relaxed her posture.

He held his hand out, her eyes shifted to confusion briefly, and his to judgement. "See, you can't do that. I know, it's practically impossible, but you have to try and take everything in your stride." He whispered.

She nodded, chastising herself, before adopting the same hollow smile, taking his hand, and walking in.

"Mother, father." Draco smiled, pointedly breaking contact with Hermione, and gesturing her toward the table to sit opposite his mother.

His parents returned the greeting, before shifting their gaze to Hermione as she spoke. "Mr and Mrs Malfoy. I hope you slept well." She said, smiling at them.

Draco was given pause when his mother replied almost politely. It wasn't quite polite, but it certainly lacked the venom of the previous day. "I slept fine. Granger."

He didn't hear his father speak, but assumed he probably just curtly nodded.

Pouring two cups of coffee, he sat down, sliding one over to Hermione, which she took with an actual sincere thanks, before blowing the swirling steam rising from the top.

"Plans today, Draco?" Lucius asked.

"I did, father, but they've changed through circumstance. I was planning on coming to the Ministry with you, but that may need to be tomorrow, now. It strikes me that, if I'm not here, Granger will just sit in my room until I get back-" He began, his mother interrupting him.

"And that would be so bad?"

"For her? Yes. Plus, Whittle has done acceptably in sourcing her attire that is appropriate for a member of the Malfoy household, so, on the off chance she is seen, it wouldn't be shameful -- as long as her nature as, uh, staff, let's say, is well known. But no, I plan on giving her a tour of the grounds, and explaining where she can, and more importantly, can not go. After that, she should be able to amuse herself without getting under your feet mother, and also not waste away in that room. If what the Dark Lord said about her purpose here is to be believed, which I have no reason to doubt, then she needs to remain in perfect health. That and she has proven herself useful." He almost finished his statement there, but then realised exactly how it sounded, so continued, "She confirmed a theory I had about one of the artefacts I'm studying. The story surrounding it is false. So I'm looking forward to unraveling that."

"I'd rather her not been seen at all." His mother replied.

"Indeed, it's quite the imposition, having to host a mudblood in our home." Lucius agreed.

"Mother, father. She was sent by the Dark Lord himself, we can't very well decline. We've all seen what happens to those who oppose him, even over matters as trivial as this. Besides, mother," Draco spoke, looking directly at her, "it pains me to see you so... Disjointed, by her presence. She's of higher standing than that," he said, gesturing to Whittle, "and you are unashamed of her. It seems pointless to be concerned, or ashamed about our family being the first to receive a Muggleborn servant. If what the Dark Lord said is accurate, it will soon be more widespread, well, among the best families anyway, for pure-bloods to have a Muggleborn retainer... And we, the Malfoys, got the honour of being the first. Surely her presence here, and the fact the Dark Lord gave the first retainer to us, should be something to be... Not celebrated, but definitely not ashamed of." He said, speaking some truths. He loved his mother, despite everything. He knew she only did what she did in attempt to keep him, and the rest of the family, not only safe... But powerful. He didn't like seeing her upset, not for prolonged periods. He had no issues with deliberately annoying her, not since his change of heart after the Battle of Hogwarts. But seeing her truly uncomfortable? That grated against him. "Personally. I'd reach out to the other pure families of note, and a few not of note as well, and just... Casually mention that we have been rewarded by the Dark Lord, with Granger here. I'm quite sure, especially if you lean heavily on the fact she was sent here by the Dark Lord himself, that you will find the other families quite jealous. Plus, let us not forget, that Granger here was called the best of the Muggleborn stock, so even when they do finally get their own, they'll all pale in comparison."

A look of contemplation befell his parents when he finished speaking. He sipped from his coffee, lightly nudging Granger with his knee under the table. Placing his cup down, his father spoke first.

"I must say, Draco, you're getting wiser. Finding a way to take an undesired reward, if it can even be called that, and transform it into a status symbol." Lucius said, looking sideways at Narcissa.

"I suppose. There's more to a family's standing that just their wealth. There is also their position in the order of things. I feared having a mudblood under our roof would lessen that standing, but you are right, Draco. She isn't just a mudblood... She's a reward, and that is the angle I should focus on." Narcissa began, "Very well. Granger, you are welcome to move around the house, I'm sure Draco will inform of places where you are not welcome, but... Do not forget your place." She concluded, looking at Hermione coldly, but already running her eyes over her, as if measuring up a new piece of furniture, or artwork -- determining how best to display her for the betterment of the family.

"Thank you, Mrs Malfoy. Mr Malfoy." Hermione replied, smiling hollowly.

"Still, I do wonder how best to show you..." Narcissa mused, allowing her words to trail off, the statement being rhetorical.

Rhetorical or not, Hermione replied, something Draco couldn't help but wish she hadn't. What she said wasn't terrible, not even remotely, it was just that the more she spoke, the more she interacted and was interacted with, the more chances of her being discovered.

"Honestly, Mrs Malfoy, I'd love some make-up advice. If you're willing." She said, smiling over the rim of her cup.

"Make-up. Why?" Narciassa asked, surprised that her rhetorical statement had got a response, especially from Hermione.

"Well, Draco has asked me not to go into details regarding it, not around you, but I would quite like to look nice for him, and you're always beautiful. I feel some make-up advice might help me."

Narcissa blinked at her a few times, still evidently take aback by her comments. She flashed a glanced to Draco, but he simply shrugged in response.

"I will think about it." She finally said, looking down at the breakfast that Whittle had just placed in front of her.

"She isn't wrong, you know." Lucius said, skewering a tomato on his fork as Narcissa looked across at him. "You are always beautiful."

Draco smiled slightly, before starting on the breakfast before him.

The meal was good, Whittle never disappointed when it came to her cooking, and soon after, Draco found himself back in his room, Hermione closing the door behind her.

"I'd love some make-up advice." He said, in a mockingly high pitched voice, turning to look at her with a truly amused smile on his face. "What? Why?"

She chuckled, "It made sense. The Imperius curse makes you feel like everything is right in the world... So, making inane requests seemed, well, appropriate."

He smiled, before beginning to unbutton the pajama top he had only just put on, "You might want to wrap up warm. It's stopped snowing, but it's still a bit cold out by the looks of it."

"Oh, you were serious about the tour?" 

"Yeah. Well, you're going to be here for a while, can't spend all of it in here." He answered leaving his unbuttoned top on and grabbing an outfit for himself. A black turtle neck, and trousers. "Do you want the bathroom, or..." He let his words trail off, instead just pointing vaguely around the room.

"Oh, I'll take the bathroom." She replied, moving over and pulling out her outfit. A black, furlined, coat, a set of jeans, a set of purple gloves and hat, and a similarly coloured turtleneck.

He grabbed his outfit and moved around the bed, waiting for her to finish rummaging through her wardrobe and disappear into the bathroom, before he removed the remainder of the pajamas and pulled on his outfit. He had been dressed for a good few minutes before Hermione finally reappeared. She was holding the coat over her arms, and held the hat and gloves in her other hand, but dumped them on the bed soon after.

"Don't know why I took them in there..." She muttered, before turning to look at him, "Could I borrow your wand?"

He nodded and handed it over without even thinking. Receiving a smile in response, he watched as she disappeared back into the bathroom only to reappear a minute later with a few touches of make-up applied. He did notice at first, but when he paid attention, she had put a little on... Though, he couldn't help but think, she didn't need to.

"Thanks." She smiled, returning the wand.

He thought for a few moments before taking the wand back. "Don't mention it. I'll be back in a bit, and we can get going." He smiled, stepping past her and heading into the bathroom.

She was gorgeous, he thought as he shut the door before resting his forehead on it. He couldn't stop thinking about the look she'd had in her eyes last night. He couldn't stop thinking about the way she looked, the way she smelled, the way she felt. "This is getting out of hand." He whispered as he turned to wash his face and clean his teeth.

Splashing water on his face again, he looked up at his reflection. He didn't like who he saw.

"She's too good for you anyway. Just keep her alive... And keep her safe." He whispered to his reflection.

_

Stepping outside, he pulled his coat closed around him, seeing as she did the same.

"You really do have a beautiful home." She said after the door closed and she was confident she could be herself again.

"Yeah, it's what an ancient fortune, and years of weaponized entitlement will get you." He replied, before being taken aback when she entwined her arm with his.

"Well, are you going to show me round?" She asked, gesturing with her head toward the gardens.

He nodded, before heading down the stairs outside the door and toward the gate that lead into the large rear garden of the estate.

They walked for hours around the grounds. They hardly spoke, except for the occasional inane comment. He had tried to bring up her parents, and if she knew of their whereabouts, or wellbeing. She'd simply answered with a curt no, and he decided to leave the topic well enough alone.

It was a few minutes after that, when they paused and leaned back on one of the trees, that he spoke again. Looking sideways at her, he stared until she looked at him. "You remember our third year?"

"Yeah." She replied, turning to look out on the dull, due to weather, but still beautiful grounds.

"When you punched me in the face?"

She sniggered before fighting to suppress it, and the smile that crept across her face. "Yeah."

"Yeah... That was good punch." He smiled, turning to look the same way she was.

"I know."

"I was such a prick." He began, remembering back to all the things he had said and done during his years at Hogwarts. Not his actions during the war, just what he'd done as a student. "I said so much stuff, so much shit about you that I... That I wish I could take back now."

"Hardly matters now, Draco."

"No, it does. It does matter."

She scoffed, a slight smile tugging at the side of her mouth. "You know, maybe you should apologize for everything you did at school... For everything you said," she shot him a glare, though it softened almost immediately, "but it seems... Hypocritical of me to expect that when I can't even bring myself thank you for what you did, or more accurately... Didn't."

He looked at her, his confusion evident in his expression.

"Last night." She said quietly.

He immediately shook his head, and looked away. "I said, you don't have to- We don't have to talk about that."

"No. Draco. You- you could have done... So much, and I would have let you, even without the Imperius curse on me. I would have let you do anything, whatever you wanted, I was... I was at my most vulnerable and you- you didn't do anything more than what you had to. You- I, I really appreciate it."

"Granger," he sighed, exasperated, "I don't know what they did- what they do in those camps but... You don't have to thank someone for Not raping you." He said firmly, looking at her, disgusted that she felt obliged to thank him.

He looked at her as she shifted uneasily. In some ways, a lot of ways, she was still very much the witch he went to school with -- but in others, she was heartbreakingly different.

The events of the war, losing all of her friends, likely her family, and then undergoing whatever nightmare was found within the camps had changed her, weakened her in some respects, though hardened her in others. She was, he knew, far stronger than he was. He had been willing, excited even, to just end his own life, when she was committed to surviving, even if that meant dragging him with her.

Silence hung between them, again. He hated it. The inability to find something to talk about without one of them being reminded of something they'd rather forget.

"Wait..." He muttered, remembering something. "What did you mean when you said not to tell Whittle? I mean, I wasn't going to tell anyone, but not telling Whittle was a pretty specific thing to insist on." He asked, looking back at her, just in time to see a genuine smile of amusement pull at her, and her eyes roll.

"Because," she began, looking sideways at him. "Because Whittle seems convinced that," she closed her eyes and smiled again, "that there is something here," she continued, gesturing vaguely between the two of them, "or, at the very least, the potential for there to be something."

He laughed, feeling genuinely happy when she chuckled along as well. "What? You, you told her that you hate me, right? She's a bright elf, but there are times I wonder about her." He chuckled, looking back across the grounds toward the house, leaning back on the tree.

"I, well, I told her that I can barely stand you... I-" she exhaled and took a steady breath, "I don't hate you, Malfoy. I mean, I did, but... Well, you're not the person you were back then. But, yeah, I- I told her there's no chance." He heard her say, a mote of true relief flashing through him as she said she no longer hated him.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure she'll definitely drop it then." The sarcasm heavy in his voice. "I'm going to regret freeing her." He sighed amusedly, before turning back to look at the house once more.

The walk back to the house was quiet, but she kept her arm entwined with his for the duration. He wanted to talk to her, to give her someone to talk to... But, with the exception of their current situation, they were worlds apart.

Stepping into the house, they moved through, toward his study, shedding their coats on the coat stand as they went. Stepping into the study, he watched as Hermione moved in, giving the box containing the WitchBane a wide berth.

"Ah, Master Malfoy, M-miss Granger." He heard Whittle say, as she moved in, holding a mop and bucket, only to stop and take a step back.

"Whittle. How are you?" Hermione asked, turning to look at her.

"Quite well, Miss. Whittle will return later, to clean." She said, turning around and moving away before pausing and looking back, "Oh, Whittle found some underwear in here, and has put it out for laundry."

Draco flashed a look at Granger, having completely forgot about that, and noticing, due to her rapidly reddening face, so had she.

"Whittle. It's not what you think." He paused reading the disbelieving expression the Elf adopted, before he felt anger swell up in response. "Fucking hell, Whittle. Whatever you think is happening here -- isn't." He didn't shout, but there was a firmness in his voice that made both Whittle, and Granger as he saw in his periphery, tense up. "You think she's the best thing to have happened to my life, and you're right -- she is. But that doesn't count for anything. I spent my entire youth tormenting her, and am partially responsible for the deaths of nearly everyone she ever cared about. She may be brilliant," he began, gesturing over toward her and seeing the somewhat reeling expression on her face, "but I'm just a constant reminder of terrible things. For crying out loud, Whittle, she's a prisoner here. Now drop it..." He implored, his voice softening as he exhaled, "Please."

Whittle opened her mouth to speak, but closed it as her expression sank slightly.

"Of course, Master Malfoy." She said, no hint of attitude this time -- just a simple, sincere agreement.

He watched as her eyes shifted over to Hermione, almost pleadingly, before she looked down and closed the door.

He turned back, catching his reflection in the glass of a cabinet.

He didn't like who he saw.


	4. Chapter 4

[[[ Sorry for the delay. Real life and all that. Between the lockdown, all of the stuff I have to do in regards to that, and the glorious masterpiece that is The Last of Us Part 2, I haven't found much me time to just sit and write.

That combined with another tirade of transphobic bullshit from JKR which really puts a damper on all things Potter, it's taken a while for me to get this done.

But here it is, hope you enjoy. ]]]

__________

**Part Four.**

"Fuck... I'm going to need to apologize to her, aren't I?" She heard him say, still absorbing everything he'd just said.

"Maybe. But, well, it will be nice not having her play matchmaker." Hermione replied, shifting her weight.

She knew Draco didn't mean to hurt or intimidate Whittle, but she also knew that his self loathing was strong enough to blind him to most everything else. She believed that he honestly couldn't see any future in which she might like him, even remotely, never mind be attracted to him. She also knew that he was wrong. When she'd first come round from the Imperius curse, in his bedroom, she'd hated him just as much as the last time she'd seen him. She was still angry, furious even, though her time in the camp had taught her how to hide it -- but now, despite the very short period of time she'd been here, she couldn't help but see him differently. He'd taken an enormous risk freeing her, he'd been so close to taking his own life as well. Everything he'd done since then really spoke to him seeking, if not believe he was worth, redemption.

He risked more than his own life, as well. He'd given her his wand on a number of occasions, and though she was out of practice, she still knew enough to wreak havoc with it before being subdued. Maybe conjuring a Fiendfyre to obliterate the entire manor. He knew she could, but he handed his wand over regardless, without a second's hesitation. Then, of course, there was last night.

She couldn't help but see him differently, because he was different. He wasn't the boy she'd known at school. He was kind, if a bit entertainingly cruel with it. He was thoughtful. He was generous. And, if she was honest to herself, she couldn't help but see him as attractive.

She shook her thoughts back to the present, "It had to be said, Malfoy. Well, most of it... Now, should we get to work on that accursed thing?" She said, gesturing to the box containing the WitchBane.

"Perhaps, but my tone was uncalled for." He replied, moving over and grabbing a small pile or parchment before handing it over to her. "Here's everything I have on it, including that incorrect story about it. Some of it are notes I've made. There's a quill kicking about in here somewhere, if you want to write your experiences... Well, maybe an abridged version. Up to you."

She grabbed the parchment, dropped onto the leather chair, tried to push the memories of her last time here from her mind, and set about reading Draco's notes. They were remarkably detailed, Including a scale drawing of it, with all measurements annotated around it.

She spent the next few hours poring over every detail he had written. She grabbed the aforementioned quill, and set about correcting or confirming the assumptions Draco had made, as well as adding an abridged, not quite able to write her entire experience, recounting of her encounter with it, as well as few assumptions of her own.

A knock snapped her back to reality, and she saw Draco start -- the sound evidently waking him up as his head rose from the desk sharply. She looked over the grandfather clock along one wall and saw that several hours had passed, and she had filled up several additional sheets with notes, assumptions, and experiences. How has she lost so much time? She loved this... Researching, and hadn't had the chance for so long.

Draco shoved his wooden chair back and moved over, opening the door.

"Master Malfoy, Miss Granger. Dinner will be s-served soon." Whittle said, looking somewhat sheepish.

"Whittle, perfect timing. Umm, just wait here a second." Malfoy said before heading to a desk and retrieving something from inside. "I... I'm sorry for how I spoke earlier, Whittle. You're- well you're better than I deserve and I know you only mean well." He said returning to her.

The rest of their conversation was lost on Hermione. Draco continued to talk to Whittle, but did so while guiding her away and downstairs. She saw him hand her something, but didn't see what it was.

"What was that about?" She asked as he returned to the room.

"Oh, nothing. I just asked if she'd pick me up something next time she went out... That, and apologized for my tone earlier." He replied, moving in to help her tidy stuff away.

"What did she say?"

"She said that I needn't worry, and she hopes that, one day, I can see passed my past... Yeah, good luck with that." He said, the last few words coming like sand.

She didn't reply, not really knowing how, not without saying things that she wasn't entirely sure she meant, so instead she deflected the subject. "I'm sorry I sort of... Shut down. I just sat here, scribbling on parchment for hours. Must have been awfully dull."

"Oh, no. No. It's fine. I never bothered to notice at school, but it's kind of nice watching you work. You've got a brilliant mind, and it's interesting to see it work." He replied, before his eyes shifted uneasily, "But... Well, dinner. We should..." He gestured to the door.

She nodded and followed him out, pausing when he asked the question she knew he would.

"Do you want me too...?" He didn't finish the question, he didn't have to, she knew what he meant.

She shook her head. "No. I mean, if you think things are starting to slip, or whatever, I... I trust you, so- yeah, I trust you." She said, not really believing she was telling Draco Malfoy that she trusted him with her mind... And meaning it. He really wasn't the boy she knew in school. 

Dinner was, thankfully, uneventful. Lucius and Narcissa spent most of them meal conversing with one another, leaving her and Draco free to mutter about the WitchBane. She found it difficult to keep her level demeanor, especially when talking about something that she found really rather fascinating, but she believed she managed it -- aside from a few glances from Narcissa.

The meal was, as she had come to expect from Whittle, delicious. Soon enough, however she found herself back in Draco's room, though she was alone as Draco had excused himself and told her to go ahead. She sat on the couch, just waiting for him to get back in the hopes of him having something for them to do, when she absentmindedly reached up and pulled the neckline of her top open, looking down at the sky blue lingerie she had put on, and hugged her breasts perfectly.

She put it on just for fun. For herself. She'd never worn lingerie before, hadn't had reason or the opportunity. Whittle, however, had bought her some -- so she may as well use it. She liked it. She felt more confident wearing it, not much, but a bit.

The door opened and she released the neckline, it rapidly snapping back, as she turned to look. Draco walked in, a large stack of books floating about a foot in front of him as he held them aloft with his wand.

"What's all this?" She smiled, gesturing at the stack.

"I figured you were bored. There's not really much to do here, not in the manor. I've been trying to think of things you might like, but then I remembered I know very little about you. The only thing I know for sure is you like books, so I grabbed an assortment from our modest library." He replied, floating the stack over and placing them in the corner.

"Thank you. I've been meaning to case your library I just, well, I'm not sure if your parents would approve." She said, moving over and pulling one of the books out and sitting down.

"You should have said. I'll escort you tomorrow, they won't say anything if I'm with you." He replied, sitting beside her, "Whittle will be bringing some tea in a minute. Oh, actually..." He began, pulling his wand out and placing it on the page she was reading, "I keep meaning to just hand that over when we're alone. Sure, you aren't officially allowed to practice magic -- but fuck that."

She picked up the wand, closed the book, and turned to face him.

"You keep doing this." She said, noticing his expression shift to confusion. "Giving me your wand. You know I could burn this whole place down, murder everyone in it, yet you seem so ready and willing to give me your wand. Why?"

"I guess because whatever you do, whatever you choose to do, you're well within your rights to do so. You've had everything taken from you, and I can't give that back... But I'm not going to keep magic from you, or take it from you. I'm not that person any more." He said, his head snapping round as the door sounded and he got up.

She watched him as he opened the door, thanked Whittle, and returned with a tray of tea. The moment he sat down, the tray placed on the coffee table, she pointed the wand at him and cleared her throat.

"Woah, what are you-" he began, but never finished as her incantation rang out instead.

"Crinus Muto." A whisp of red light leapt from the tip of the wand and washed over, and weaved through Draco's hair.

The magic burned away the white, leaving blazing orange in its stead, as well as twisting, lifting, and matting Draco's usually perfectly kept hair, leaving it looking more like something she would expect to see on a Weasley... On Ron. It was then that she realized that her mind had conjured up an image of Ron just as she pictured what hair to give Malfoy, and as such the result had been... Draco Weasley.

"Oh-h-h, fu-u-ck." She laughed, the sight before her being utterly ridiculous. Her composure broke completely as he scowled, and she broke down into fits of laughter.

"Really, Granger?" He snatched the wand, flicking it back at her.

She watched as the hair that hung over her shoulders washed through black.

"Huh, you don't look too bad with black hair." He mused, as he allowed her to take back the wand.

"Well, you make a terrible ginger." She laughed, flicking the wand at him, and turning the ginger to black. "Nah, I guess nigh-white is definitely your colour." She said, reverting his hair to normal, and then her own.

"Yeah, your hair is better like that, too." Draco said, gesturing to her now natural hair, before pouring them tea.

She spent the next hour practicing several spells. She was out of practice, but a lot of it was ingrained knowledge, and came back to her quickly. Still, she had heard plenty of horror stories of magic gone wrong, so she had no intention of rushing herself. That being said, after her cup was empty, she did attempt to non-verbally transform the cup into a bluetit, and was very pleased to see the transfiguration went off flawlessly.

"Avis." She said, as three blue sparks shot from the tip of her wand only to inflate and swell into three blue birds that fluttered around the room, joining her teacup.

"Still got it. Not surprised." Draco smiled, watching the birds fly laps around the room, before she dismissed the three, them disappeared in muffled pops, while her teacup returned and reverted to its normal form. "I hardly ever use that spell, Avis." He continued, pouring the last of the tea, each of them ending up with only half a cup each.

She smiled, a memory flashing into her mind. "Do you remember when Ronald dated Lavender Brown?"

"Vaguely, yeah. I tried to just keep my distance from it. It was... Pretty sickening. You know, they were just, so sweet to eachother all the time. Plus, back then, I was only interested in things I could torment Weasley with, and having a girlfriend isn't really what I was after." Draco replied.

"Pft, it was certainly that. Sickeningly sweet. Well... Well, I- I loved Ron by that point, and- and I was waiting and waiting for him to ask me out, but he didn't. Then Lavender asked him, and he said yes. They started dating, and everywhere I went they were all I saw. I," she chuckled, "I did not handle it well."

"What, oh come on you have to tell me, what did you do? The magic you could command back then, it could have been devastating." Draco asked. She saw he was trying to keep the atmosphere jovial, as he must have known the effect talking about Ron would have on her if he didn't.

"Well, it wasn't classy." She laughed. "I just hid somewhere and practiced conjuring those birds. Well, I didn't hide very well apparently, as Harry found me, and then Ron did. Well, I'd had enough come this point. So I used Oppugno and-"

"Oh, no." Malfoy interrupted, a laugh brewing in him, she could see.

"Yeah," she chuckled, "I used Oppugno and catapulted three birds at him." They both started laughing, "They fucking exploded all over the door."

They laughed for the next few minutes, Hermione using the good feeling to think about Ron for a while, but forced herself to stop after the sadness began to overtake her. She did remember something though, something she had meant to ask Draco about.

"Draco?" She said, not looking at him, not wanting eye contact incase this turned out to be a bad questions. He hummed in response, turning to look at her. "Why do you have a photo of Astoria Greengrass in your study?"

"Oh..." He replied, turning to face the table again, his hands wringing lightly in his lap. "I- ... So I don't forget her, I guess."

She didn't speak, she just turned now to look at him, prompting him to continue.

"She was two years our junior, when we were at Hogwarts and, I don't know, I just always kind of wondered, I guess." He said, continuing to look at the table.

"You loved her?"

"No. No. But I think I might have. You know? One day, further down the line." 

"So, as good as." She replied, him looking across at her, a confused look in his eye. "I mean, I don't have loads of experience, but that reminds me of how things started for me and Ronald. I started thinking that, yeah, maybe one day I could love him... And took me a while to figure out that the moment I thought that -- well, that was love. The starts of it, anyway. Wh- what happened to her, where is she? She's a Greengrass, a pure blood, and a Slytherin. She must be doing okay."

Draco looked away, and his shoulders sank as he exhaled slowly through his nose. She looked at him, instantly realising that, apparently she was not doing okay.

"She... There was something about her. The things she'd say, the way she'd react to things, that made me think that - that the whole pureblood ideology that had cleaved to me so strongly in my youth, maybe didn't stick on her quite as well. Part of me found that endearing, especially as the war got worse, and the Dark Lord gave me my mission to kill Dumbledore. I... I saw my doubts in her and, well. After the war, The Dark Lord brought everyone back to Hogwarts, all the those that had been evacuated, Astoria was among them, and had the watch as he and his Death Eaters executed those that had fought-"

"Oh god..." She winced.

"And, well, I was looking at her, to not look at anything else, and I could see that none of this sat well with her. Other pure bloods, and not just Slytherins, and not all the Slytherins, were whooping and cheering, but she wasn't. She looked, I don't know... Angry. Committed. Well, it was soon after that, after seeing this girl that I liked sharing the same sentiment as I, that I thought about maybe doing something about it. Like a resistance or something, something stupid. I was going to wait until she finished at Hogwarts, so as to not raise suspicion, then contact her to test the waters." He continued, before pausing to try to drink from an empty cup. "But, never got the chance. I can't know for sure what happened, but my guess would be she mentioned something to the wrong person. Spoke out about things she didn't like a bit too loudly, or too frequently. Maybe she trusted the wrong person... I don't know. But she's gone now. Just poof," he gestured with his hands, "gone. I've tried to contact her, I've even asked her parents, and her sister. They just pretend she never existed. I'm- I'm pretty sure she's dead."

"Shit. I'm sorry Draco." She said, moving her hand over and resting it on his shoulder.

"So, I keep her picture to remember her." 

"Is... I don't want to sound cold, but, is that wise? I mean, if she was killed for, like sedition or whatever, is having her photo a good idea?" She asked.

"If you had a photo of Ron, would you get rid of it?" He asked, looking across at her, no anger in his eyes, something she was thankful for as she knew her question could have come across as harsh.

"No, no I guess I wouldn't." She replied.

They sat in silence for a few moments before she decided to ease the tension by practicing more spells again.

It was late by the time she stopped, placing the wand down on the table, Draco still flicking through a novel absentmindedly.

"We should get some sleep." She said, Draco closing his book as she did.

"Yeah, uh, if you want to go get ready, I'll get my bedding sorted as tidy this lot away." He replied, getting up and holding out a hand to help her. 

She looked quizzically at him as to why, then noticed she'd been sat in her feet most of the night, and getting up would not only be difficult but uncomfortable.

Taking his hand, she got off the couch, protesting to his amusement as he feet stung and complained as he blood rushed back to them. "I keep fucking doing that." She chuckled as her feet and legs finally returned to normal.

"I had noticed." 

She smiled, retrieved her nightdress, and moved through to the bathroom. She left the door ajar as she set about cleaning her teeth and washing her face.

"You know. That lingerie that Whittle picked out, the blue set. It's really quite nice." She called out, admiring herself in the mirror." She'd never really liked the way she'd looked when she was younger, but she was pretty happy with how she'd grown.

"I will take your word for it." Draco called back, much to her amusement.

She shed the lingerie, and pulled on her nightdress before closing the door, using he facilities, washing her hands, and then returning to the bedroom.

Draco was already in his pajamas, his clothing folded by the door. He smiled and stepped passed her into the bathroom. 

She shook her head, dislodging the thoughts about him that had started to become more frequent, before climbing into bed.

"Why did I call out about the lingerie?" She whispered, questioning herself before chuckling and pulling he duvet up.

Minutes passed before Draco reappeared. He flicked his wand, the lights and room falling dark in response. She then heard him, as he eyes slowly adjusted, move toward the couch -- to his makeshift bed.

She laid for a few minutes, agonizing over a notion, chewing her bottom lip as she tried to rationalize what she was going to do regardless. The she opened her mouth.

"Draco?" She said softly, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep.

"Yeah?" He replied, equally softly.

"C- come to bed." She said, almost imperceptibly quietly.

She laid in silence for what felt like seconds, wondering if he'd heard her, but then he spoke.

"Maybe that's not the best idea."

"I'm going to be here, what, indefinitely?" She replied rhetorically, "I can't let you sleep on the couch forever. Come to bed. Please." 

Silence returned to the room again, but only for a short while. She soon a dark figure move to the opposite side of the bed, and climb in, the mattress shifting under his weight. She could smell him, and her mind was immediately back to the last time they were in bed together.

She shook the thought out, fighting to suppress the spark it had ignited in her. 

"Good night, Draco."

"Good night." 


	5. Chapter 5

[[[ I think I'll take this chance to post a little reminder.

I do proof read my work, but I don't have any beta-readers or anything, so some typos and the like may get through. My phone has a tendency to "help" and auto-incorrect my stuff. 

I do proof my chapters, but the mind tends to see what it expects to see -- not necessarily what is there.

Still, I hope you all are enjoying this so far.

Oh, all feedback is appreciated. ]]]

__________

**Part Five.**

She worked to steady her breathing, but found it almost impossible to do so. Every time his breath, or his lips touched her neck, her breathing would lock up, only to shudder back a second or so later.

She moved her arm up, running her fingers through his short white hair as he supported himself over her, his face buried between her neck and shoulder. She craned her neck to the left, giving him even greater access, not wanting the waves of pleasure to stop. With her left hand, she grabbed and clawed at her night dress, pulling it up, the hem passing above the underwear she was wearing. 

Draco kissed her neck again, another shudder rolling through her as she moved her hand down. Before she could press her fingers under the waistband of her underwear however, she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist and push her hand away.

"No. Please Draco- ah." Her protest was cut short as his hand released hers and pressed onto her through her underwear.

She felt his other arm, his left, shift slightly, moving from simply supporting his weight, and move closer to her. She felt his fingers weave into her hair and grip before pulling her head back.

She went to moan, maybe even to protest, but the notion vanished as his tongue pressed passed her lips, his mouth locking with hers. Instead, she mewled into the kiss, rolling her hips, pressing herself onto his fingers.

The kiss lasted and lasted, their tongues dancing over and coiling around the other. She had her eyes closed, enjoying every sensation that washed through her from his ministrations. A tide of joy, resetting with every touch, every press. Her eyes sprang open, however, as she felt his fingers shift. Instead in rubbing against her through her underwear, she felt his skin touch hers for the briefest moment as he pulled her underwear to the side, exposing her to the air.

He broke the kiss and leaned back. His hand was still between her legs, she could feel it there, but he wasn't touching her. She looked up at him, the moonlight spilling in from the window making his white hair shine. She couldn't speak, no matter how she tried, so instead she just nodded, lightly but frantically. She wanted it. She wanted to feel him press inside her, even if was just his fingers. She wanted to writhe and moan beneath him as he worked on her -- and not because of some fucking dark artefact, she wanted it for her. So she nodded.

He smiled down at her, not wickedly, or arrogantly, but sincerely, and then she felt his fingers press against her again.

"Draco." She sighed, her words finally obeying her.

She wanted to close her eyes, to lean back and just exist in the sensations that he was about to give her, but she didn't. This was as much a moment for him as it was for her, so she didn't. She kept her eyes open, locked on his, so he could see every flare of lust, every flash of excitement, of trepidation, every single wash of pleasure, and the countless other emotions she was experiencing. He could see them all in her eyes as he slowly pressed his fingers up inside her. He could see everything he made her feel.

She laid there, her back arching, as her hips rolled, trying to get him deeper, faster. She then felt his palm press her, his two middle fingers as deep as they could go. She felt his grip on her hair tighten as he began sliding his fingers in and out. She fought to keep her eyes open, to keep them locked with his, but the moment he pressed his thumb to her clit, she failed.

She moaned aloud as her eyes closed and her head leaned back further still. Her arms moved to be level with her head, and gripped the pillows as she began rolling her hips in time with his motions.

He picked up his pace, driving his fingers in and out faster and faster, his thumb brushing and striking at her clit occasionally in time, but just a frequently out if sync, so she never knew when a peak in pleasure would cause the pressure building in the pit of her stomach to increase.

With every press, every time he drove his fingers into her, a building sense of pressure and urgency deep inside her grew and grew and grew.

"Draco, Draco I'm gonna-" she didn't get to finish her sentence. Her words were stolen from her as he pressed his mouth to hers again. As he did her drove his fingers in as deep as he could and pressed hard onto her clit.

The pressure, the sense of urgent need, released all at once in a crashing wave of electric water that whelmed her completely. Every thought, ever notion, every aspect of her sense of self was smashed aside under a torrent of sheer, unadulterated joy. 

Her eyes snapped open to early daylight. She was leaning on him, and he was awake. During her sleep, no doubt precipitated by her dream and her subconscious run rampant, she must have moved over to him, as she was leaning on his shoulder, with her arm draped over him. She had no idea how long she'd been there, but the instant she was aware her cheeks began to burn and she pulled away.

"Sorry." She muttered, slinking back to her side of the bed.

"You shan't hear a complaint from me." He replied, looking across at her. "Nightmares aren't fun, it's no wonder you sought out company in your sleep."

"Nightmares?" She asked.

"You were mumbling and fidgeting in your sleep. I was just about to wake you. I get nightmares too, sounds childish and pathetic, but they're anything but... They can be horrifying." He replied, looking up at the ceiling.

"Yeah." She replied, embarrassment burning up inside her, but thankful she hadn't mumbled anything that gave away that her nightmare was anything but.

"Thanks, by the way." Draco yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

"For what?"

"Letting me sleep in the bed. I didn't want to say anything, but that couch isn't great to sleep on-" he looked across at her again, "but I'll sleep on there again if you want me to. I'm not trying to impose."

"Impose? It's your bed, Draco." She laughed, trying to distract herself from the, thankfully, subsiding embarrassment and shame she was feeling.

"Not really. Not now. For as long as you're here, it's yours." He said, sliding his legs and getting up.

She heard a series of clicks come from his back as he did.

"Ffuuu, heard that from here." She smiled.

"Yeah, yeah that felt good." He chuckled, getting up.

"You're up and at 'em pretty early." She said, flicking her gaze from him to the clock and back again.

"Yes, I'm going to the Ministry with my father today, remember? Have to be punctual." He replied, moving around the bed and shedding his pajama top, and unfastening the ties of the bottoms.

"And... Me?" She asked, propping herself up and watching him.

He paused briefly before continuing, "I... I had assumed you would stay here. You can come if you want, of course, though I can't attest as to what the reception will be." He turned, clutching the waist band of his bottoms to prevent them from falling, a fine black suit, black tie, and black shirt folded over his other arm.

"Why are you going? Just to appease your father?" She asked, general curiosity as her motive, and knowing that keeping Lucius appeased was a good idea, especially given their deception.

"Not completely. Yes, it will keep him happy for a few days, he does so love the parade through the atrium. But the Ministry has a sizable archive, I might find something on the WitchBane there... As well as a certain book you're after." He replied.

She thought for a moment, having to push images of Draco letting his pajama bottoms fall from out of her mind, before finally speaking again.

"I'd like to come, if you don't mind. I might catch something you overlook, not to say that you'd--"

"No, you're right. I like researching things, but you're far better at it. You're more than welcome to come, though, as I said--"

"The reception."

"Yeah." Draco confirmed.

"Well, I'm the property of Draco Malfoy, of the Malfoy family. I'm sure we'll be able to figure out a way through, unless they want to oppose the wishes of the Dark Lord." She replied, smiling, pleased that her station might actually be of benefit.

"Quite, but still, we'll need to be careful... And you'll need to get dressed, appropriately for a Malfoy family asset being seen in public." He said, wincing as he spoke the last few words.

"Well, after you." She replied, swinging herself out of the bed and moving over to her wardrobe.

He nodded and vanished into the bathroom, the door clicking shit behind him. She opened her wardrobe and reached in, plucking out one of the more unusual choices Whittle had made. A black, fitted tux. It struck her as odd that Whittle would choose that for her, but she'd been dying to try it on since she saw it, and when she was evaluating the purchases the other day, this one seemed to have stumped Draco for a moment as well. She grabbed a white button up shirt, and snatched a pair of heels that seemed sizable, but not excessive -- she still wasn't exactly the most graceful in heels. After how she felt yesterday, and thinking she could use all the confidence she could muster for a trip to Voldemort's Ministry of Magic, she grabbed a set of black lingerie.

Bundling it all up, she turned as Draco stepped out, watching as finished pulling the comb through his hair before tossing it back into the room. He looked sharp. His hair was impeccable, as usual, and contrasted brilliantly with his otherwise jet-black attire. He recovered from chucking the comb, and fastened his cufflinks, which shone out silver on black.

"There you go." He said, sidestepping and gesturing for her to enter.

"Thanks... You look good, by the way." She said, moving passed him and closing the door.

She moved over and looked in the mirror.

"You look good by the way?" She whispered at her reflection. "Get a hold of yourself, and what the fuck was that dream about?!" She continued, scolding her reflection, though careful to keep her voice audible only to her.

Sorting herself out, and using the facilities, she then pulled on the tux and heels before checking herself in the mirror again. She looked at herself for a few moments before sliding up to the door and opening it a crack. Just enough to fit her hand through.

"Wand please." She called out, waving her hand, onto for the touch of wood to occur a few moments later. "Thank you."

She withdrew her hand and closed the door, before returning to the mirror.

She played the wand over her hair a few times, changing the style until she settled on a ponytail. She then played it over her face to apply makeup. Stepping back and looking at herself. She hardly recognised her reflection.

Moving toward the door, she steadied her breathing, not even sure why she was so nervous. She then opened the door and walked out into the bedroom, his wand hanging loosely between her thumb and forefinger. He was looking out of the window, but upon hearing the door, he turned around and she almost blushed at his expression.

"Will I do?" She asked, after the silence dragged on a might too long.

"Y-yes. Yes. You look incredible, Hermione." He replied, his eyes scanning up and down her.

She almost blushed again, seeing him drink in every detail of the way she looked. Before she'd even noticed, she'd moved a hand up to her hip, and cocked it slightly.

Why the fuck are you posing?! She thought, chastising herself.

She blinked and snapped herself back to reality, moving across and offering him his wand back.

"We should get to breakfast." She said.

"Yeah, good idea." He replied, taking the wand and moving toward the door, pausing just short.

"You... You really do look incredible Granger." He said again, looking at her, a spark in his eyes that she'd seen a number of times before, most recently in her dream, but a spark that he often tried to suppress -- and always managed to ignore.

She thought for a second, less, and said what she thought before having the time to second guess or suppress her intent.

"You should see what's under it." She smiled, before moving passed him and opening the door, stepping out into the hall.

He followed a second or so, taking longer, she assumed, as she had evidently left him reeling, as was her intent. The moment he stepped beside her, the pair moved toward the stairs and kitchen.

"I wonder if your mother will approve." She mused.

"If she says she doesn't, she's lying." He replied.

They paused for a brief moment, just shy of the kitchen, so that she could once adopt her faux-cursed mannerisms, before walking in.

"Mother, father. Granger will be joining us at the Ministry today, if that's okay. She's helpful, and it would good to parade our status while it's still exclusive to us." Draco announced as he stepped in.

Lucius and Narcissa were still pouring their own coffee, neither having sat down yet as Draco and Hermione had arrived in the kitchen a night earlier than usual.

"If that's the case, I'll need to dress her appropria-" Narcissa began, before stopping as she set eyes on her.

"Good morning Mrs Malfoy. Mr Malfoy." She said cheerfully, cocking her head at Narcissa's gaze. "Is this acceptable? I would hate to embarrass you or, heaven forbid, Draco. Especially after you've been so kind letting me into your home."

"She looks... Acceptable." Narcissa said, answering her question, but directing the reply to Draco.

"She'll do, as staff." Lucius agreed, massively understating how she looked.

"I thought so." Draco replied, moving over and getting both himself and her a coffee, gesturing for her to sit down which she did, reacting instantly to his commands, so as to not raise suspicion. 

A few minutes passed, wherein Draco spoke to his parents, and she just sat quietly and ate, but it wasn't too long before she was placing her cutlery down, paired on her plate, and was again struck by how good a cook Whittle was, the eggs Benedict had been amazing, but she rapidly shook the thought free.

"Mrs Malfoy?" She asked, pretend to not notice Draco tapping her leg with his foot to stop.

"Yes?" Narcissa replied curtly.

"I mentioned, the other day, that I would like some help with my makeup. You said you would think on it, I was curious as to if you have come to a decision, as I'm going with Draco, and Mr Malfoy, today -- and I would quite like to look my best."

"You look fine, Granger." She replied.

"Very well. I just wish to represent to Malfoy family as best I can."

"Fine. Come with me." Narcissa relented, pushing herself up fro the table and gesturing for her to follow, which she did.

"I won't be long, Draco." She said, looking back at him, noting the concerned look in his eye.

She followed Narcissa upstairs, into the master bedroom. She was nearly knocked off if her feet as she walked in. Draco's room was lavish by the standards she had grown accustomed to, being a Muggle born, going to Hogwarts, and then at the camp... But it paled in comparison to Lucius and Narcissa's room.

"Come, sit here. Who put your makeup on today?" Narcissa asked, gesturing at the cushioned stool in front of a vanity unit.

"Draco did. A simple spell, but he seemed less than confident in his abilities applying makeup. I think he did brilliantly, but he seemed to think less so." She lied, moving over and sitting on the stool.

"Really?" She asked, but continued talking before Hermione could reply, "Well, he did a pretty good job, considering he can't get much practice. I said you looked fine, Granger, and I meant it, but we can do better than fine -- and if you're going to be representing my family at the Ministry, we will do better than fine." She withdrew her wand and pointed it at Hermione's head.

She felt a breeze lick her skin, and the makeup she had applied earlier vanished into the air.

"Draco had the right idea. That shade of lipstick suits you perfectly, and the work around the eyes are acceptable, but the technique was sloppy. You're naturally pretty, Granger, so with the right makeup you can look exceptional. I remember the first time Draco spoke of you... A stuck up, know it all mudblood, with a bird nest on her head... But look at you now. You never can tell how some people will change over time." She said, seemingly thinking out loud, as opposed to actually conversing as she moved around behind her, toying with her wand. "Anyway, let's see what we can do." 

It didn't take long until Narcissa was finished. Hermione looked at herself in the mirror and was taken aback by the woman looking back at her. Narcissa had kept everything pretty much the same, but all the lines seemed sharper, clearer. The blending was flawless, and she'd even changed her hair every so slightly -- pulling a few strands of hair free from the pony tail, deliberately. 

Hermione thought she looked good before, but now...

"There. A few alterations, and better technique, and... Much better." Narcissa said, stepping back and folding her arms, reviewing her work. "You know, Granger, if I didn't know better I'd say Draco was becoming rather of you."

She had to think quickly, then think again through her veil of faux-curse mannerisms.

"I would like to think so. All I want to do is make him happy." She replied, careful to keep her hollow smile in place.

"Well, for your sake, you beat hope he doesn't get too fond. I would like some proper grandchildren, not some half-blood population boom, and for that he needs a proper wife. If you get in the way of that, you might just suffer and nasty accident." Narcissa hissed.

Hermione almost felt her smile vanish, taken off guard by the sudden hostility, but she managed to keep it in place.

"Well I'd hate to be a nuisance. I want Draco to be happy, with someone worthy of him. That isn't me." She replied, wanting very much to be out from under Narcissa's withering glare.

"Good. Now get." Narcissa flicked her wand and the door opened.

Fighting her desire to get out as fast as possible, Hermione stood up, thanked her and then slowly walked out. She steadied her breathing and composed herself as she made for the living room, knowing that was where the chimney connected to the floo network was. Walking in she felt her breath stutter again as she saw Draco look at her, that spark reigniting in his eyes again.

"Well. She really can make anyone look good, can't she Draco." Lucius quipped as she walked in.

Draco simply nodded before speaking. "We should probably get going, father."

She moved over, waited her turn, which was after Lucius but before Draco, grabbed the floo powder and a moment later was stepping out into the black and green tiled atrium of the Ministry of Magic. A moment passed before a flare of green behind her heralded Draco's arrival, and he stepped out of the flames, looking every bit a Malfoy. She looked for Lucius and saw him a few meters away, talking to two others she didn't recognise. As she scanned the atrium she saw many faces, some familiar from the Battle of Hogwarts, and many looking at her.

"Draco hold my hand." She whispered.

"What?"

"Hold my hand, please." She replied, instantly feeling slightly more secure when he did. "People are looking, and I don't want there to be any confusion as to why I'm here."

"Come then." Lucius said, as he moved over to join them. "I assume you are heading to the archives?" He asked, noting Draco holding her hand.

"Yes, and I thought this best," Draco replied, lifting their joined hands, "save some curse happy Inquisitor from taking out my reward from the Dark Lord."

"Probably for the best, as unsightly as it is." He agreed.

The trio then moved away from the chimneys toward the anti-muggle monument that dominated the fountain. Hermione could almost feel the eyes in her, and could hear her heels clicking over the din. She was beginning to regret dressing as well as she had.

"Draco?! Draco Malfoy?" She heard a familiar voice call out, Draco coming to a halt and turning to face its origin.

She turned as well and saw a familiar face, wearing unfamiliar clothing. Adorned in a black, multi-fastened great coat that seemed to radiate threat, adorned with a silver pin in the shape of a W and large I bisecting it, though the I was stylised to look like the Elder Wand, came the familiar face of Pansy Parkinson.

"Draco, I thought that was you." She said, moving over and embracing him, not even noticing her presence.

"I'm not exactly hard to spot." Draco chuckled, return the hug, but with only one arm as he refused to let go of hand, something that Hermione was thankful for.

"Merlin's beard, I haven't seen you for months, how are you? And who's thi-" her questions scattered to the crowd as she finally acknowledged, and recognised, Hermione.

"Hello Pansy." She said, trying to maintain her composure and her deception, despite the waves of threat that seemed to sheet off of Parkinson. She had changed enormously since the last time she had seen her -- she looked like a seasoned killer.

"Granger?"

"Yes. The Dark Lord himself came to our home just the other day, I moment," Draco began, before turning to his father, "Sorry father, it's been a long time since I've seen Pansy, we may be a while, I'll catch you tonight?"

"Very well. Miss Parkinson." Lucius said, inclining his head toward Pansy, before turning on his heels and moving away.

"Mister Malfoy." She returned the pleasantry.

"Yes, as I was saying. The Dark Lord came to my home not but a few days ago and gave me Granger here as a, uh... Retainer, I guess. A reward for my being instrumental in Dumbledore's death, and our Lord's victory. Not quite the reward I had in mind, but she has her uses." Draco continued. Hermione found herself marveling at his ability to just deceive on the fly -- though, technically, everything he had said up to now had actually been the truth.

"He gave you her? Why?" Pansy asked, placing a hand on her hip and cocking it, the exact same pose, Hermione recognised, that she adopted that very morning.

"Well, to do whatever I want. She's under my direct control, Imperius Curse -- naturally. Apparently all the prominent Pureblood families will be receiving one, a muggle-born, soon... We were just the first, a reward for services rendered. That and, well, the Dark Lord and Umbridge believe that we, notable purebloods, can use them to... How did he put it? Strengthen our lines? Or something. Basically we use them to breed, increasing our families. Any offspring would be half-blood, but well, that's not exactly terrible." Draco continued.

"Really?! So you're," she gestured pointedly at Hermione, "Granger?"

"Like I said. She has her uses. Besides, the instruction came straight from the Dark Lord himself." He replied, looking across at her, Hermione careful to keep her hollow smile firmly in place. "Anyway, enough about Granger. What's this?" He asked, gesturing to the outfit, "You made it into the Walpurgis Inquisition? Congratulations, Pansy, that's incredible."

"Yeah, yeah, about a month ago. I've been meaning to contact you but, well, time just gets away from me." She replied.

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

"Right? The war ended like 7 months ago and I haven't seen hide nor hair of you -- nor most others actually. I had rather hoped we'd all stay in contact after school, you know?" She continued.

"Yeah, yeah, that's kind of on me. I've just been lost in my research." Draco said, explaining his absence, and spinning a half-truth in the process. Hermione knew that if she hadn't been taken to him when she was, Draco would have killed himself, without any thought of Pansy, or anyone else.

"Well, I have been too. Not research, but training. How come you never tried to get into the W.I? After what you did, and with the Dark Mark, and given how skilled you are, you'd get in easy." She asked. "You're really content to just look at old objects?"

"I... I find it fascinating. Besides, if I can crack any of them, of which I'm close, you could end up using copies of these old objects in the field. I'm studying one right now that is absolutely debilitating. If you, and the other W.I. had some of these in your arsenal, well, I'd hate to oppose you."

"If you say so, Draco. You always were a bit smarter than me... That being said, you had plenty of nice physical features too..." She said stepping forward and tracing a finger down his chest. "We really should catch up sometime. I miss our experiments at school."

Draco chuckled and smiled. "So do I... I tell you what, write me and we'll arrange a day when we're both free. You can swing by the manor, or I could go to yours. Where are you living now?" 

"I have my own place in London. The W.I. looks after its people. Still, I better get back, were expecting a bunch of werewolves through soon, and those beasts sometimes need reminding that they aren't top of the fucking food chain. Expect my letter, if you ignore it -- or get too busy, I'll hurt you," she smiled jovially, "And the W.I. have taught me all sorts of interesting ways to do it."

"I wouldn't dream of it. It's good to see you Pansy" He said, as she started walked away.

"You, too. Have fun Granger." She replied, adding a barb toward Hermione.

"Thank you Pansy. I do, nightly." Hermione replied, savouring the awkward look that washed over Pansy in response, and the tightened grip from Draco.

After Pansy left, Draco lead them toward the archive. Pansy's behaviour, and what she said, hung in Hermione's mind. She had always assumed that Pansy and Draco had had a thing at school, but the way she worded it, made it sound like they'd gone further than just spending time together. She shook the thought free, it didn't matter to her who Draco had been with.. it shouldn't matter to her.

Minutes passed before they entered the vast archive of the Ministry of Magic and approached the inquiry desk. Many requests later, and a stack of books, and an armful of loose parchment was dropped on the desk in front of them. Unfortunately, Secrets of the Darkest Art was not among them, and evidently not present in the archive at all.

"What's the W.I?" She asked, looking across at Draco while flicking through another book that, given their luck so far, she was sure contained nothing of use.

"What? Oh. The Walpurgis Inquisition. Well you may have noticed that, aside from how bad things have gotten for Muggle-borns, that wizarding Britain hasn't fallen into anarchy. The MLEP, for example, not only still exist, but are in fact greater in number now than they were. That's good in some ways, but seeing as they are just used to further the Ministry's control over, well, everything, not so great in actuality. The W.I. well, they're what the Auror office was replaced by. The Ministry doesn't really do much of the Dark Wizard catching anymore, as they'd have their hands full with the Ministry alone, so the Auror office was disbanded. After the war, practically immediately after, actually, the Ministry -- though it was Voldemort that commanded it so, founded the Walpurgis Inquisition to be raised in the the Auror office's stead. They track down sedition, traitors, resistance movements, as well as assist the MLEP when they need a bit more oomph. They're, they're Voldemort's bogeymen," He replied, keeping his voice low, "and one of the main things I'm worried about, given what you're planning."

"And Pansy is one of them?" She muttered.

"So it seems. So I would ask you not bait her any more. The last thing I want is an Inquisitor breathing down our necks because you ruffled her feathers... As entertaining as it was." 

"Good point. I guess she's pretty loyal, to the Dark Lord then? Must be, to get that job." She continued, closing the book she had just scanned, and grabbing another.

"I don't know about that. It's a safe assumption, but... I don't know. I think her appointment might have more to do with her lineage, than her character. I always assumed she was loyal to the Dark Lord, but only as far as convenience allowed. She was raised, as I, to believe in blood superiority, to believe in everything that the Dark Lord embodied. I never questioned that until I forced to, it was... A convenient lie that I was raised to believe -- and I can't help but feel she may be the same. Now, I have no doubt she passed the training and selection on her own merit, Pansy is a skilled and powerful witch. But, well, I think her family have had something to do with her getting on the course -- especially so soon after the war. The W.I. must be lousy with applicants, and I think her family may have pulled some strings to get her through the door. Still, I've changed a lot in the 7 months since the war -- she may have as well. So, just, take care how you behave around her."

She thought for a moment, curiosity as to Draco's history with Pansy still gnawing at her, before she finally spoke again.

"Fair enough."

After several hours poring over old books and parchments, they gained very little insight on the WitchBane. The only lead they found on it was a vague mention of a similar item in the possession of a Russian wizard back in the 1910s called Артур Соколо́в, or Artur Sokolov. But other than that, nothing. 

Draco flicked his arm forward, checking his watch, before closing his book and pushing back from the table. Seeing him move, she joined him.

"Well, this was a time consuming exercise in futility." He groaned.

"Well, we have a name at least, Artur Sokolov. That's something." She replied, pushing her chair back in.

"Sure, but the WitchBane is a curiosity," he began, lowering his voice, "the real reason I came here was a complete bust." He continued, refering to the book Hermione needed.

"What time is it?" She asked, noting her own lack of a watch, and not seeing any clock in view.

"Just gone noon. We should get some lunch, somewhere in London, keep out of the house for a bit." He said, gesturing for the door, while flagging down one of the archive staff to return their books.

She nodded and followed him. Their trek back through the Ministry had her attracting many looks, partly because of her attire, but also because she was on the arm of a Malfoy. Exiting the Ministry and moving through the Muggle streets of London, she still attracted glances, but these ones felt less threatening -- there was no way any of the Muggles knew who she was, or who she was with, she simply attracted looks due to her, well, looks.

Draco turned into a small tea room, and moved over to one of the two seat tables, before sliding out a chair for her, and then sitting down himself.

"Have you been here before?" She asked, sitting opposite him and grabbing the booklet that made up the menu.

"Never in my life, it's a Muggle place, I usually go to magical establishments -- practically exclusively. But, I've grown weary of them of late, plus, I'd rather like to give you a break from it all. Here you can just be you, without risking anyone seeing." He replied, "I grabbed some Muggle money from home, always handy to keep some around."

"Oh, well, let's give this place a shot." She smiled.

They sat for a few minutes in silence, looking over the menu, before a young woman approached with a small notebook.

"Hey. Uh, do you know what you'd like?" She asked, her glance flicking from Draco to Hermione.

It was only then that Hermione noticed that, compared to the other patrons, they were very overdressed.

"Yeah, I'd like an English Breakfast tea, and a slice of Victoria Sponge cake, please." She answered, smiling at her.

"Uhhh, yeah. Yeah I'll have the same, thank you." Draco said, closing his menu.

"Okay, two English Breakfasts, and a Victoria Sponge. Got it. Oh, you two look awesome, by the way." She added, leaning over and snatching up the menus.

"Thank you." Hermione added.

The service was prompt, and cake was generously portioned. Cutting a small piece off with the side of her fork, Hermione took a bite before looking up at Draco.

"So, Pansy?" She asked, finally relenting to ceaseless gnawing of curiosity.

"What about her?" Draco replied, just prior to taking a sip of tea.

"Well, what she said at the Ministry. Sounded like you two had quite a relationship, back at school. I mean, we always kind of assumed, Harry and Ron and I, that you two were a thing -- she did tend to cleave to you." She said, focusing on her cake, and not on Draco who's focus had shifted to her.

"Yeah... No. Sort of. It was, I don't know. We were sort of dating, but also, kind of not. Like, she's a good looking girl and, back then, I liked her. But, I guess, it was mainly that we were almost expected to pair off, you know? I'm a pure blood, she's a pure blood. I'm a Malfoy, she's a Parkinson. We were of similar social strata and, at the time, similar mindset. We'd practically been raised to seek out a good match, and she was that to me, and I was to her. But... I don't know, it all seemed... Artificial. Like, we went through the motions, we played the part, but -- and I'm just speaking for me, it was never... Real." He took a breath, then cut into his cake.

"Oh." She replied, not really knowing how to respond. She'd never considered quite how all encompassing the expectations of him had been, how much they had affected every aspect of his life. "Well, she seems like she might still be a bit interested... Especially in the, uh, experimenting." She continued, looking up and smirking, though she actually felt somewhat jealous, which was causing her no small amount of self-focused annoyance.

"Yeah, sorry you had to hear that. She was just poking fun at you, I think. Trying to make you uncomfortable, despite the fact that, were you under the curse, it wouldn't have worked anyway."

"Maybe she was doing it specifically to see if I was under. Seeing if I reacted."

"Maybe." He took a other bite, swallowed by another swig of tea.

"Well, if anything, it answered a question I had." She muttered, picking up her own tea and sipping it.

"What question?"

"Well... It's just, I don't know, I mean at first I thought I was reading too much into it, but..." She paused, struggling to form the words, especially given their location.

"But what?"

"Well, the other night. Not last night, the night before, when you..." She lowered her voice even further, despite already whispering, "helped me with the... Well, I just couldn't help but think you seemed to know what you were doing." She felt her cheeks burn, and she kept her eyes off of him, instead cutting a slightly more sizable piece of her remaining cake and taking it into her mouth.

A silence descended on them, as they let the awkward tension hang, neither wanting to speak due to knowing not what to say. It was Draco that finally broke the silence however, much to her relief.

"Well, yeah. I've had some experience."

"I'm not judging you, Draco. I just... I don't know why I brought it up. Sorry."

"No, no. It's fine, um, yeah, me and Pansy we sort of started messing around in our fourth year... Right after the Yule ball, actually... Actually, let's change the subject, yeah?" He said, finding her eyes.

"Yeah." She agreed. "Wh- what are we going to do now she's possibly sniffing around?" She smiled, regretting allowing her curiosity to get the better of her, regretting making Draco feel so awkward, and definitely regretting learning that Pansy had had her hands all over him since he was fourteen. The jealousy that she was feeling was not only infuriating due to her not wanting to believe that she was experiencing it over Draco Malfoy, but was also hurtful in all the ways jealousy usually was.

"Well, hopefully, she'll be happy just meeting up occasionally for a chat, and if needs be, we can keep her away from you. If not... I don't know. I need to think."

"Look, I don't want to go straight there or anything, as I know she was friend, but I feel it needs to be aired... Could you take her, if you needed to?" She asked, again lowering her voice.

"No, it's okay, my mind's already gone there. I'm a fair duellist, but so was she, and that was before her training with the W.I. If it came to it, fuck, honestly, I think she might have me beat."

"You should find out."

"What, how?"

"Challenge her, just a friendly duel, when she inevitably asks you to meet up. Say, I don't know, say you'd like to see how much better her duelling has got since the training. I mean, she wouldn't give it her all, but it'll be a good indication." She said, taking the last of her cake.

"Maybe."

Finish their drinks, they paid, and returned to the Ministry, before taking the floo network back to Malfoy manor. She stepped out first into the otherwise deserved living room, before a bright flare of green behind it once again heralded Draco's arrival.

"What now?" He asked.

"Well, first, I'm ditching the heels, then... You promised me a trip to the library here." She said, slipping her heels off, before bending down and picking them up.

"Right. More books." He chuckled, gesturing through the house for her to follow.

She spent the the next few hours marvelling at the modest, but well stocked library the Malfoys had amassed over their family's time. Her reading was only interrupted twice. Once when Whittle knocked on the door, Draco needing to talk to her about something, and then again when she came back, informing them that it would soon be dinner.

She packed the books away, and followed Draco to the dining room, replacing her shoes and her hollow smile as she did. The meal was thankfully short, as Narcissus and Lucius evidently had plans that evening, and soon enough she found herself walking back into Draco's room, the door being held open by him.

The moment she walked in she saw a large bouquet of flowers sitting on the coffee table, in a vase.

"What?" She asked, stepping in and walking over to them. "Draco, flowers?!" She said, immediately battling against an ember of annoyance that sparked in her chest as to why he would give her such a hollow, baseless sentiment. Especially given their circumstances.

"Oh to hell with the flowers, though Whittle has good taste, and I might keep them -- you know, until they die. Check inside the bouquet." He replied, pointing toward them, but with his finger angled down as if pointing in through the top. "Honestly, I ask that elf to do something surreptitiously, and she buys an enormous bouquet of flowers. I might need to remind her what discreet means, though, the fact she managed to get one at all..."

Her expression shifted from growing anger to confusion, as she stepped closer to the flowers. She looked down, but saw nothing but petals, so instead reached her hand in.

"Draco?" She said, her eyes snapping to his as her hand touched something.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Six.**

He smiled and walked over, as her eyes grew wider at what she thought she was feeling -- and he knew she was correct.

Watching her, she pulled an 11", vine, dragon heartstring wand from the center of the bouquet, the flowers only being there to obfuscate the wand, Whittle believing, correctly so now he thought about it, that her moving around Diagon Alley with a bouquet of flowers would draw less attention that her trying to conceal a wand -- a wand that it was illegal for her to even carry.

Now he looked at it, he realised he must have misremembered how big Hermione's wand had been. There had been no chance of him recovering her old one, it having being destroyed, but he had hoped to get her a replacement as close to her original as possible, hoping that, if it was close, the wand would choose her, and she'd have no issues using it. Short of managing to take her to a shop, and have her purchase her own wand, which was dangerous given how well known she was, this was the best he could.

"I think I misremembered the size-" he began, but was immediately silenced when she threw her arms around him and hugged him. He hesitated for a second, wanting nothing more than to embrace her fully, but instead responded by putting one arm around her and return the hug.

"Draco, I can't believe you did this." She said, stepping back, tears in her eyes.

As he watched, she blinked them away before focusing on the wand, hoping it would accept her. The wand would perform regardless, but if it accepted her, it would perform better.

Looking at her, he saw a sourceless gold light seem to frame her, as an equally sourceless breeze tugged at her clothing and hair. A broad smile on her face. She looked the happiest she had done since she'd arrived... And the joy was contagious.

"I'd hoped that by getting you a wand that was the same as your old one, it would likely choose you too. Turns out I misremembered, but it looks like they were similar enough." He said, looking at her looking over ever detail of her new wand.

She looked back at him, a smile still there, unwilling to leave her.

"Obviously you need to be careful with it, if anyone else sees you with a wand they'll-" he was silenced yet again, but this time by her lips finding his.

She'd crossed the small distance between them almost faster than he could perceive, and had pressed her lips to his. The kiss was brief, and she pulled back fairly swiftly.

He looked at her, his eyes locked on hers, before his body disobeyed his mind and stepped forward. His right hand reached up and took the side of her face as he leaned in, his left taking hold of her shoulder. She not only did not recoil, but her head angled back and she leaned closer.

Just as his open mouth was about to meet hers, a rap at the door snatched the moment away. She shifted back, startled, and immediately concealed the wand behind her back. As he watched, he saw rising panic begin to build in her eyes as what had nearly happened dawned fully on her. He didn't want her to spiral, not due to his lack of restraint, and his stupid, stupid, reactionary attempt to exploit an emotional moment, so he did the only thing he could, he called toward the door.

"Yes?"

"M-master Malfoy, Miss Granger. Whittle has br-rought tea." He heard from the door, Whittle's customary stammer as endearing as he'd always found it.

He looked back at Hermione, she had calmed, and the rising panic seemed to have subsided. She withdrew her wand from behind her back, instead holding it relaxedly in her hand, though she refused to meet his eye.

"Th-thank you, Whittle." He said, walking toward the door.

"D-Draco." He heard Hermione whisper, causing him to look back, only to see her gesturing to her lips, and then to him.

It took a second before he got her meaning and quickly rubbed the lipstick that had evidently transferred from her to him away, before awkwardly nodding at her and opening the door.

"On the table, if you could." He said, gesturing into the room.

"O-of course." She replied, moving in.

Closing the door, he saw as Hermione tracked the elf with an almost predatory look in her eye, and the moment Whittle had deposited the tray, she swooped down and snatched the elf into deep hug, Whittle's eyes shifting from fear to surprised happiness in a second.

"Thank you, Whittle. Thank you so much. I - I can't ever repay you." Hermione said, finally releasing the young elf and looking between her and her new wand that was still grasped firmly in her hand, as if she was terrified someone would take it.

"It was Master Malfoy's idea, Miss. Whittle simply did as she was asked." Whittle replied, though she couldn't hide the smile.

"That's nonsense Whittle." Draco said, refusing to allow her to downplay her involvement. "I asked you to do it, yes, but it would have been nearly impossible without you -- not to mention how dangerous it was for you to get."

She nodded, appearing uncomfortable with the attention, before reaching into her outfit and withdrawing the exact amount of money he had given her the day before.

"Here is the money, sir."

"What? Wha- Whittle, that's all the money I gave you. How did you-" he began, before Whittle interrupted him, something she never would have dared do before he freed her, the audacity of it making him smile, but nowhere near as much as what she said.

"Whittle didn't think that any self respecting shop would s-sell her a wand, even if she did say she was was on an errand for her family. So Wh-Whittle stole it, sir." She said.

"You stole it?" Hermione sniggered, "Oh my god, Whittle. If they'd caught you."

"They didn't, Miss. Whittle can be v-very discreet."

"Well then, keep the money, Whittle. Spend it on whatever you want, it's yours. In fact, now I think about it, seeing as you - like Granger, refuse to leave, and seeing as I've freed you, I had better start paying you. Is monthly acceptable, I'm afraid any more frequently might arouse suspicion." He said, smiling at her.

"Whittle d-oesn't need paying, Master Malfoy, Whittle is quite happy-"

"Monthly it is, then." Draco interrupted, noticing the look Hermione flicked his way.

"Th-thank you, Sir. Whittle should get going." She said, moving passed him toward the door.

"Why don't you join us for tea?" Hermione called after her, beating him to the punch. He was also looking for some excuse to prolong the delay between now, and his and Hermione undoubtedly awkward conversation they were destined to have about the earlier events.

Whittle paused and looked back, truly unsure how to reply.

"Brilliant idea, Hermione, why don't you make her a cup." He agreed.

She smiled, only able to meet his eye for a second. "Geminio." She said, flicking her brand new wand toward one of the cups, breaking the wand in with a rather complicated spell right off the bat.

As he and Whittle watched, the spell formed flawlessly, causing the cup to shudder slightly, the sound of china on china sounding in the room, before another cup appeared with a pop, settled inside the first as if it had been stacked there. 

"Whittle wouldn't r-r-really know what to do." She said, shifting uneasily.

"Well, you just sit, and drink, and talk." Hermione replied, smiling warmly and gesturing to the couch.

Draco moved around and sat on the floor, on the opposite side of the table, allowing Hermione and Whittle the couch, and poured three cups of tea. As he did, Whittle padded around and climbed onto the couch, before settling back into it, Hermione lowering herself beside her.

"So, did I hear something about you working in Hogwarts, before being sent here?" Hermione asked, passing Whittle her cup, then grabbing one for herself.

"Yes. Whittle used to work in Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. M-mainly in the kitchens, but Whittle also did housekeeping duties as well. Wh-Whittle remembers Miss Granger from her time at school. Whittle also remembers hearing of Master Malfoy."

"Nothing good about me, I'm sure." Draco said, taking a sip from his cup and remembering back to his days at school, and how he'd verbally abuse most the elves -- he was just thankful he hadn't done so to Whittle.

Whittle just smiled weakly, agreeing with him, but not wanting to say so.

"I tried to get to know the elves at Hogwarts, but, well... I think I may have overstepped my bounds." Hermione continued.

"Well, many of the others were annoyed. They were worried that Miss Gra-anger's actions would cost them their jobs, which they liked. Whittle was concerned also, but Whittle understood that Miss Granger's actions came from a good place." Whittle responded, taking a sip from her cup, possibly her first sip of tea since she left Hogwarts.

"Did, um... Did you fight?" Hermione asked, refering to the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Y-yes. Whittle stabbed a Death Eater in the spine with a boning knife, and dropped a chunk of the castle on another."

"Damn, Whittle." Draco interrupted, wearing a truly impressed expression.

"Yes, but... Well, it was all for naught, wasn't it?" She replied rhetorically. "After, Whittle went back to the castle and pretended she had spent the time cowering, hoping the Death Eaters would show mercy. They did, and Whittle was allowed to stay at Hogwarts for a while. Then, when they stopped allowing M-Muggle-borns into Hogwarts, and the number of students fell, they didn't need as many elves. So W-Whittle was sent here, to serve the Malfoys."

"So that's how you got stuck with this one." Hermione smiled, gesturing loosely toward him.

"Hey, I've tried to get both of you to leave -- you just won't go." He interjected, chuckling. Taking the comment in the good humour in which it was meant, taking another sip of his tea after.

"May I a-ask questions?" Whittle asked, still looking unsure as to her place in the dynamic.

"Of course you can, Whittle." Hermione replied instantly, kicking her shoes off, tucking her legs up under herself, and turning to face her more fully.

He couldn't help but watch as she reached up and pulled the band fastening her hair out, allowing her hair to fall free, something she assisted by lightly shaking her head to help it settle. He tore his eyes away, just in time to see Whittle's glance toward him end.

"Did you two n-not make any attempt to get on at school?" Whittle asked.

Draco winced, and breathed in through his teeth, his left hand reaching back to rub his, suddenly tight, neck.

"Uhh, no, not really." Hermione began, before he interrupted.

"Not at all, actually. I, uh, well... I was a, how did you put it, a foul, loathsome, evil, little cockroach." 

"That might have been a bit harsh." Hermione said, shifting uneasily.

"No, no it was not. Don't let my recent change of heart... Or, emergence of heart, I suppose, blind you to the past. I was, fuck, I was terrible." He looked across at Whittle, "All the horrible things you heard about me, Whittle, they were probably all true, and then some." He looked back down at his tea, "No, I, I cursed her very name. I hated her and everything about her." He looked back up at Hermione, "I hated where she came from, I hated that she was at Hogwarts -- that she, and her kind, had the audacity to study magic... And I hated that she was so good at it. She was everything I'd been raised to loathe," he slid his gaze to Whittle, "so I loathed her. I was blind and prejudiced, and I never gave myself the chance to do anything but loathe her."

A silence fell on the trio, and lasted for a few seconds until Hermione spoke.

"Although, there was ever much hope of us getting along. I was sorted into Gryffindor, for starters. The animosity between our two houses is well known. Then there was all the prejudice that you'd been raised with... Now I think back, and knowing what I do now... I, well, part of me wishes things had been different when we were at school." Hermione replied, not looking at Whittle, but looking directly at him. "Like, if you'd been sorted into Gryffindor, or I don't know, both of us in Ravenclaw, or, or somehow circumstances had been different, and something had bridged the divide between us. Who knows what could have happened."

He couldn't read her. He knew what he wanted to read, he knew what he wanted her to mean -- but through his own disbelief, and knowing their history, he couldn't tell what she was thinking, and couldn't imagine, despite what happened earlier, that she could possibly mean what he hoped.

Whittle sipped from her cup, the motion almost reminding him that she was there.

"So," He looked over at Whittle, "uh, no. We never really tried to get on."

"That is unfortunate. It se-ems you two can get on quite well, now circumstances have forced you to." Whittle said, appearing to simply muse aloud, sipping her tea and looking at neither of them.

Hermione went to speak, but Whittle beat her to it.

"How was your trip to the M-Minsitry?" She asked, this time looking up at Hermione.

"Oh, umm, fruitless I'm afraid, except for a name. Artur Sokolov. Don't suppose that means anything to you?" She replied.

Whittle simply pursed her lips and shrugged, before shaking her head.

"No, I didn't think so." 

The sat for a few more minutes, talking, and moving through the tea until Draco poured the last dregs into the cups.

"I do have one m-more question." Whittle said, taking the proffered cup. "What are you doing? W-w-what are we doing? Are we... are we actively rebelling against the M-Ministry. Against the Dark Lord?" She asked, holding her cup and looking intently at them both, one after the other, and back again.

He looked over at Hermione, and remembered every that they had said to one another since she reappeared in his life just a few short days ago. He thought about how this woman, who had meant less than nothing to him during his time with her at school, was now his sole motivation to do anything. He remembered how happy she'd been when she'd taken hold of her new wand, how happy she'd been to simply have that of which she was entitled to anyway, and he couldn't think of any answer but one.

"Yes." He said, seeing Hermione's expression shift as she heard his words. He looked back at Whittle, seeing her looking at him, her cup now empty. "Yes. I- I can't, I won't do the things he expects, the things he demands. And I can't stomach that there are those that will, be it through fear or loyalty. The world is worse now than it ever was, and I can't see a way for it to improve as long as he still draws breath. His passing will never come naturally, so yes. Working against him, and actively seeking to destroy him, is the only option. I..." He flicked his gaze to Hermione, then back again, "I assisted in his ascent to power. The only I chance I have at redemption is to help bring him down."

"How? Whittle was under the i-impression that the Dark Lord was invincible."

"He may be immortal, but he's definitely vincible." Hermione replied, her words pulling Draco's head round, like she'd just hauled on a chain.

"Vincible?"

"It's a word, look it up." She smiled, before returning to Whittle. "He's immortal, but we can change that... I just need to find a certain book before hand."

"Why?"

"I contains, or may contain, some information I would like to have before we make any overt moves. Secrets of the Darkest Art, it's called. But it's not easy to find." Hermione answered, before Malfoy interjected.

"I'm known for studying dark artefacts, it's not unreasonable for me to desire a copy of such a legendary book. I'll put out some feelers, see if anyone knows of a copy for sale, or at least that we can read through." He said.

"Would Hogwarts possibly have a copy?" Whittle mused.

"Unlikely. The copy at Hogwarts was kept in Dumbledore's office... Until I took it. It was probably lost after the battle, and even it is was recovered, it doubt it went back to the school. We could try though. Send a request to Hogwarts, see if they have it?" Hermione responded, looking over at him, and then back at Whittle.

He nodded in response, believing her assumption as to the futility of it, but also acknowledging that it was worth a try.

"Well, Whittle should be going." She said, sliding off the couch and moving to place the cups securely on the tray, only for one to vanish with a pop as Hermione dismissed the spell.

"Thank you for chatting with us, Whittle. It's nice to know more about you, and thank you again, so very much, for the wand -- and for risking your safety to get it for me." Hermione said, sliding forward on the couch to lean down and hug her again.

Draco saw, as she did, that she grimaced as she, once again, realised that she had been sitting on her feet for the entire conversation, and couldn't help but snigger under his breath -- she'll never learn not to do that.

"It's quite alright, Miss Granger. A-again, it was Master Malfoy's idea." She smiled, extracting herself from Hermione's grasp, and grabbing the tray before making for the door.

Draco climbed to his feet and followed her to get the door. He could have opened it from there, with his wand, but he couldn't help but feel that that was a might discourteous. Opening the door, he smiled at her as she walked out.

"Thank you, Whittle. Really."

"Th-that's quite alright Master Malfoy. Have a good night." She replied, stepping out and turning down the corridor.

He closed the door and turned back to look at Hermione looking at him.

"You sat on your feet again." He smiled, unbuttoning his jacket and discarding it on the foot of the bed.

"Oh, shut up." She smiled, him seeing her shift as she moved her feet out from under her. "I can't believe Whittle stabbed a Death Eater... And in the spine, no less. Damn."

"Yeah. Girl's got a passed to her, for sure." He replied, sitting on the side of the bed just long enough the untie and remove his shoes before getting back up.

Getting up may have been a mistake. He now had to either sit back down on the bed, which would look unusual as he just got up, or sit next to her, which would likely be awkward, and possibly bring around a discussion that he was sure neither of them wanted. Seeing her eyes on him, and knowing how awkward it would be to not, he moved around and dropped beside her on her couch, sighing as he settled back into the sofa's soft, comfortable, embrace.

"So," Hermione said, swinging to face the coffee table, the table now only playing host to the bouquet of flowers that had previously concealed her wand, "we're rebels, huh?"

"I mean, by definition, yes. Though that word has connotations of lesser, ever since people started calling teenage behaviour rebellious." He replied, leaning back with his eyes closed, resting.

"Can't imagine either one of us was called rebellious by our parents. I was the model daughter. Studious, polite... Chast. You, well, you were every bit your father growing up."

He snorted a light chuckle. "Yes, I suppose. I never really ever cut loose or, well, did anything my parents wouldn't approve of."

"Not even... you know, Pansy?"

He fought the urge the open his eyes, and instead tried to deflect the comment. "No. My parents were the main reason I befriended Pansy in the first place. Like I said, we were pretty much pushed together. They like Pansy. She's pure blood and of, quote, good stock, unquote."

He nearly opened his eyes again when she didn't reply, a silence dragging out between them, but then did open them when she finally did reply.

"That wasn't what I meant."

He looked over at her.

"Wha- why do you keep bringing this up?" He asked rhetorically. "No, I didn't tell my parents about that, obviously, it's kind of private... But even if I did... Well, I can't say they'd be distraught. They probably suspected anyway, Pansy always was quite... Grabby." He replied, seeing her wince, oh so slightly, at his words. "Granger? What? Why bring this up?"

"Ju- just making conversation, forget about it." She replied, shifting slightly, increasing the distance between them fractionally.

"No, no. That's not conversational material. What do you want me to say? What, that I didn't want it? Because I did, of course I did. I was an arrogant, hormonal fourteen year old, and Pansy was..." He paused briefly, "Of course I wanted it. Do you want to know if I regret it? I... I." he sighed, thinking for a single second before continuing, "Part of me wishes I'd waited, or that I'd, I don't know, done that with someone that meant something more to me, but that's in hindsight. At the time I- At the time I was sure that I'd end up with her, for the rest of my life. It wasn't until I met Astoria, or, well, noticed her as she grew up anyway, that I thought otherwise."

The silence filled the void again before she finally replied.

"I guess that makes sense, just, fourteen seems pretty early to me."

"It did to me, too." He agreed, looking down, suddenly ashamed of what he'd done all those years ago. "But at the time it was, it was like a badge or something, you know? I'd been with someone, so that somehow made me better than everyone else." He scoffed. "It made sense at the time, no matter how stupid it seems now." He looked up at her, remembering how she looked at the Yule ball. "You seriously never did anything? I mean, maybe not after the Yule ball, but like, later." He saw her shake her head, "What never?! H-how?"

"What do you mean, how?" She asked, looking back at him, "It never came up."

"How did it never come up. I mean, look at you. I mean, nevermind the looks, you're just... Great, in general. How did it never come up?" 

"I mean, maybe it did. Victor, Victor Krum was certainly open to the concept -- and I can't say it wasn't flattering but..."

"Weasley?" He interrupted.

She smiled sadly and nodded. "I guess I was waiting... Waiting for him to see me, properly see me I mean. Waited too long it seems."

Once again a silence spilled in between them, seeming to swell and inflate the void between them. He had started to loathe silence. He couldn't remember the last time he had experienced a blissful one, all the ones of late were awkward, or worse, painful. He looked over at her, toying with the wand in her lap.

"Look," he began, steeling himself for could be a miscalculation on his part. "This is depressing, and it's not even remotely late enough to sleep. Do some magic." He gestured to her wand, forcing a smile, "Whittle didn't steal that wand just so you could stroke it." 

She smiled and chuckled in response. He could still see sadness in her eyes, but she seemed genuinely thankful for the distraction.

"Like what?" 

"I don't know. Wait. There was a rumour, back at school, that you and your friends could cast the Patronus Charm. Is that true?"

She smiled, looking down at the wand in her lap.

"Yeah. Harry was always really good at it. He taught all of us how to cast one. I, uh," she chuckled lightly, "I really struggled with it."

"You? I don't think I've ever seen you struggle with anything, well, other than flying on a broom." He replied, honestly surprised.

"Yeah. Just, struggled with it. Got the hang of it in the end."

The silence began to creep back in, and that was the last thing he wanted, "Well? Are you going to show me?"

"What? No. Come on. I struggled to cast it before, when I was using magic every single day -- excessively. Plus... Plus, to conjure a Patronus, you need a happy memory, and, well, all my happy memories are... Broken."

"Fuck sake..." He muttered, looking into his lap, "We quite literally can't talk about anything without one of us getting upset or annoyed."

"No. No, we're... We're a disaster." She replied, looking at him, chuckling as he looked back, him joining her.

"What about you? Ever tried to cast a Patronus?" She asked.

"Oh, Merlin no. That spell terrifies me." He admitted, putting his hands up.

"What, why?"

"Well, they say, that you can only cast it if you're good... Or, so bad that your sense of morality is completely broken. I never dared to try to learn that spell because - because I was worried what it show me."

"Draco. You're not evil-"

"That's as may be, but my evil deeds certainly outweigh my good ones so." He said, standing up.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get out of these." he replied, gesturing to his clothes before moving off toward the wardrobe.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea." He heard her say as he hauled his wardrobe open and grabbed out his pajamas.

"You want the bathroom? I can get changed out here." He asked looking at as she pulled a nightdress from her wardrobe.

"Yeah, if you don't mind." She replied.

He shook his head, indicating that he had no qualm with it, and gestured for the door. She smiled as she walked passed, pulling the door closed.

"Maybe I'll see what's under it next time." He said, remembering her comments from that morning. He smirked as the door stopped closing for a brief moment, before continuing and clicking shut.

A few minutes passed, him sitting on the foot of the bed toying with his wand, before the door opened again and she walked back in.

"Well, it's not that late but I'm out of ideas." He said, looking at her.

"I want to see you conjure a Patronus. Or at least try." She replied.

"I told you, I don't even know how-"

"I'll teach you. Come on, Draco, what have you got to lose?"

He thought for moment, seeing an almost hopeful look in her eye. When had he gotten so weak to her? The moment he saw that look, he knew he'd do what she asked, even with his misgivings.

He shrugged, rubbing his tongue along the back of teeth before looking back at her.

"Fine." He sighed, getting up.

Her smile brightened. "Right, ready your wand." She began, as he did precisely so. "Okay. You need to find your happiest memory."

"Oh, well, I'm spoiled for choice." He replied, sarcasm falling from his words in sheets.

"Not having many is, now I think about it, probably a good thing. Shouldn't be hard to find the winner." She replied, taking his defeatist comment and warping it to suit her ends. "Close your eyes, it helps. It takes from the now, and allows you to greater experience your memories."

He closed his eyes, and began swimming through his memories, grasping at any that brought him any semblance of happiness. He kept coming up empty, until he began drawing on his most recent memories. 

"That one." Hermione said, snapping him from his memories, and back to the moment.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "What?"

"The last memory you thought of. It made you smile, you smiled. I was watching you, looking for some reaction or... Well, that one made you happy. Use that one." She said, smiling softly at him. "Go back to that memory, concentrate on it and it alone. This is very important. You can't think about anything else, not a thing. You have to focus on that memory until you feel as though you were actually there, all over again. Then, once you're there, say the incantation: Expecto Patronum, and try to visualise pushing that memory, and all the positive energy from it, out from your wand."

He nodded. He'd have no issue remember ever aspect of his memory in vivid detail -- as it had only happened but a few hours ago. Closing his eyes, he pressed his consciousness into the top layers of his memory. There he stayed, floating, focusing on the moment she pulled her wand from within the bouquet. It was an odd memory to spark so much joy in him, but her happiness in that moment had been so contagious that he'd been practically powerless against it. He focused, diving deeper into that past. He could smell the flowers that Whittle had brought, and see how their colours matched the room perfectly. He remembered every line, every angle, every curve and cut of the tuxedo she had worn, and how it was simply breathtaking. He could see, as clear as the present, how the makeup that her, and his mother, had applied only accentuated how pretty she really was.

He harnessed every aspect of the memory, and all the emotions, all the joy that poured from it, and directed it to his wand, visualising it as a real, tangible object as he pressed it up and out of his wand.

"Expecto Patronum." He said firmly, opening his eyes as he did.

His wand remained dormant, just a rounded tip of Hawthorn, until a small mote of light flared to life. It hung on the tip, seeming to bleed waves of faint, ethereal light. Like the simplest wand-lighting charm, only more spectral. He cast his eyes to Hermione, she was reacting to it too, the waves of tangible happiness he could feel radiating from the fist sized orb of light.

It sat on his wand for a second or so, before slowly fading and vanishing in a whisp of white mist.

"You did it!" She exclaimed, his head turning to look at her.

"That was amazing. I, just, I thought it made like a bolt, or a barrier, or an animal." He said, confused by the simple mote of light he'd made.

"If a Dementor has been here, then it would have been a bolt or barrier, depending on what you sought. As for the corporeal variants... The animals. Those are odd. Some people can make them, some can't. Don't be put out or disheartened if you can't -- it has nothing to do with skill. I mean, Professor Flitwick's patronus was non-corporeal." She explained, "Sometimes it's due to the power of the memory, sometimes is situational, but sometimes it's just... inexplicable."

He had zoned out about halfway through her explanation. He heard the words, and they registered in his mind, he just didn't care. He just looked at her, smiling, as she reeled off magical esoterica. No makeup, no effort on her part to look or behave beautiful or endearing -- just her, being herself. A catalogue of obscure knowledge and detail. He was lost in her... In every detail of her.

"What?" She asked, "Why are you smiling at me like that?"

He just held her gaze for a second longer, unable to suppress the smile until he spoke. "Expecto-" he flicked his eyes to a random point in space in front of him, "Patronum." He said softly.

The light flared from his wand, launched from the tip to stretch and coil at the point Draco had looked at. The blue-white, ethereal light formed the shape of serpent, whips of white mist radiating from it, to vanish into thin air.

It floated at the point, slithering and coiling around itself, sliding through the air as if it were water. As he watched, seeing Hermione doing the same in his periphery, it shifted, crossing the distance to coil itself up her arm, before cresting her shoulder, and crossing the distance between them and then scattering into the air, dispersing into a thousand strands of vapour.

"What was it?" He whispered, still lost in the fact it had worked -- and what it meant.

"It looked like a Grass Snake." She replied, before her excitement asserted itself. "Draco, you did it! And you picked it up quick, too. See, I told you."

He smiled at her, then look back at his wand, still floating on the tides of happiness that his Patronus had produced.

"That was brilliant. Wh- what memory did you use?" He heard her ask, his shoulders slumping slightly at the question.

"The," he paused, not really wanting to answer the question, but he could see the curiosity and anticipation in her eyes. "The first time? You, when you got that." He replied, gesturing loosely at the wand she still held. "You were so happy then, and it was contagious."

She shifted back slightly, surprised. "And... The second time? Same memory?"

He chewed his lip lightly, turning to face the bed for a moment, looking away from her before looking back.

"No. No memory that time." He answered, noting her expression change to one of realization. "That one I cast purely in that moment."

"Draco," she began after a long, load pause, "I, I can't-"

"No. No, I don't expect y-" he interrupted, his gaze falling from her, "I know that... It was nothing. It was just, it probably worked because I'd just cast it before, you know? It's..." 

"Yeah, yeah that makes sense." She interrupted, and he could see the lie in her eyes, "I mean, casting a Patronus is a powerful, happy memory in and of itself so... Yeah, easily could have been that." 

"Yeah." He replied, looking at her, each lying to the other, and each fully aware of it.

"You know, um, I'm actually quite tired." Hermione began, "Could we just, get some sleep?"

"Yeah, yeah. Good idea, I am too." He said. Moving passed her to clean his teeth and use the facilities.

He pulled the door closed and turned to his reflection.

"Why the fuck is this happening?" He whispered to the mirror, looking at himself.

No answers were forthcoming. They never were. Only ever more questions.

Leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him, the taste of toothpaste still lingering, he saw her already in the bed.

"Well, early night. How very rebellious of us." He heard her snigger, and saw her look over at him. "The perfect start to a fledgling rebellion. I'm sure history would agree."

He cast his gaze over to the wardrobe, where the bedding for couch was, and tightened his grip on his wand.

"Bed, Draco." He heard her say, stopping him before he could move to prepare the couch. "Unless... Unless you don't want to."

Of course he wanted to. 

He smiled softly, and instead used his wand to dim, and finally extinguish, the light in the room, before climbing into bed beside her.

"Good night... Rebel." She chuckled.

__________

[[[ A footnote, eh. That's unusual, right?

Draco's patronus is, as Hermione suspected, a Grass Snake. As taken from Mugglenet's guide to Patronus meanings: Grass Snake - Misunderstood and often just looking to get on with its day, the common grass snake alludes to the idea that we are often judged by our outward appearances when in fact, we may bear little other similarities with those we are mistaken for. ]]] 


	7. Chapter 7

__________

**Part Seven.**

Thanks to Whittle, and due to the last thing she and Draco had spoken about, she had developed an earworm over the course of her night's sleep -- and when she woke up, consciousness provided no reprieve. It continued to play in her mind, despite her not having heard it in person for many years.

Opening her eyes, she was facing off of the bed, toward the white doors of the wardrobe. Draco's superb mattress embraced and supported her, and with the duvet pulled up to her neck, and the pillow beneath her, she was wrapped in a world of comfort. 

This was her fifth day living with Draco, and the difference between her life now, compared to what it had been six days ago, was appalling. She rolled onto her back, and looked up at the ceiling, aware of Draco asleep beside her. 

At the camps she had slept on a simple mattress, on a plain wooden framed bunkbed. She'd shared a room with eleven others, of varying ages, and they'd be very careful so as to separate her, and she assumed the other troublesome veterans of the war, from each other. She had known none of her roommates, though that had not lasted.

Veteran. Merlin's beard, how was she a veteran? She was eighteen, for crying out loud. Nobody should be a veteran at eighteen.

Her revulsion at that subsided as she again remembered back to the Mudblood Relocation Camp she'd been sent to in Wales. Through it all, and her seven months there, despite the constant abuse, and soul crushing propaganda and re-education systems they had subjected her and her fellows to, she'd actually managed to make friends there, with her roommates, and she couldn't help but wonder how they were doing... Especially Ellie.

"In the midnight hour she cried more, more, more." She muttered quietly to herself, her earworm helping itself to a portion of her focus, and she thought about the possibility of her, Draco, and Whittle, somehow managing to break some of them out, "With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more-o-ore."

Her mind surfaced from the thoughts of the MRC, pulled back to the more immediate past with thoughts of Draco's patronus. "In the midnight hour, babe. More, more, more. With a rebel yell. More, more, more, more, more, more."

"What are you singing?" She heard Draco ask softly, snapping her from her mind. How long had he been awake? Had she woken him?

"Sorry. It's stuck in my head."

"I didn't complain." He replied, smiling and shaking his head softly, his eyes still closed as she looked at him. "Just curious. Sing all you want."

"Oh, no. I'm an appalling singer." She scoffed.

"You are? I'm not allowed to sing, by order of the Wizengamot." He chuckled in response. "Seriously though, what were you singing?" He asked again, this time turning and looking at her, his eyes finding hers across the gap between the pillows.

"It's a Muggle song. My parents used to listen to it sometimes -- or, well, it came over on the radio on occasion. Rebel Yell, can't remember who it's by. All this talk of rebels and the like, rooted it firmly in my head."

"Well, I'm no lyricist, but I don't actually think that song is about rebellions, you know?" He smiled, asking rhetorically, as he looked back at the ceiling.

"No," she chuckled. "No, I think you're right." 

"Seriously though, the whole rebellion business... I don't even know where to start, aside from finding that book. Calling it a rebellion is one thing, a pretty arrogant thing as well, on our part, seeing as we are two people and an elf strong. I wouldn't know where to begin." He said, still looking up at the ceiling.

"I've had a few ideas, but nothing that's worth sharing if I'm honest. I guess, right now, the best thing we can do is work on our cover, and try to find that book." She replied, not yet willing to mention her conceptual raid on the camp, seeing as she had no idea how to actually accomplish that.

"Well, the cover thing seems to be going okay -- so long as you don't bait Pansy again. My parents, well, my father is completely apathetic to your being here, as far as I can tell... And my mother seems to have accepted your presence here, I mean, she helped you yesterday, which I honestly doubted she would."

She winced, remembering she hadn't actually mentioned to Draco what his mother had said... The subject matter being all the more raw now, given last night. "Yeah... About that."

"Oh no." He sighed, turning his head on the pillow to look at her.

"Yeah. She threatened to kill me." She winced again.

"Why, what did you do?"

"I didn't. She..." She stopped, not wanting to tell him, not after last night.

"She what? Tell me." He said, propping himself up on his elbow, the mattress bowing slightly beneath.

"She was concerned about your future, your familial future. She seems to have no issue with me being... Bred, it seems, but she made it abundantly clear that if you didn't find someone appropriate, then she'd need to... I, I feel that she's under the impression, and worried that, you might be falling in love with me." She said, unable to look at him as she spoke, but casting her eyes to him the moment she finished, only to immediately speak again a she saw the expression she dreaded appear on his face. "Which is, of course, ridiculous." She continued, trying to bury the feelings visibly surfacing in him under layers of convenient lies, "I mean, you're not... And I'm not... I mean, we- we're absolutely not fall... We're horrible for each other, right? We're not..." She trailed off, unable to continue burying the same feelings that were rising in her, all the while hoping that she was hiding them better, though she knew she wasn't... How could she? He was practically leaning over her, just like how her dream had started the other night.

"No. No, of course we're not. Why would we... H-how would we... We're definitely not-" he stopped talking and leaned toward her.

She immediately ran her right hand up onto his shoulder, closed her eyes, and pulled him down until their lips met.

She felt his other hand, his left, press down on the bed the other side of her as he shifted, positioned, and supported his entire upper body over her. Her hands moved in response. Her left went from the bed, up to instead hold the side of his chest, beneath his arm. Her right slid higher, running up the side of his face, her fingers brushing through his hair.

Their mouths did not stay closed for long, and by the time her fingers crested his ear, she had opened her mouth and deepened their kiss as he did the same. He pulled back slightly, and just as their lips parted, he tilted his head at a different angle and kissed her again.

Every part of her was existing solely for this, and in this, moment. Her fears, her doubts, her misgivings... All of it melted away to so much unimportant, meaningless, slurry. She gripped tighter to him, her fingers kneading the skin on his back, as an exigent sense of need began to override her senses.

He pulled his lips free of hers swiftly kissing down her cheek to her neck. She gasped, her chest swelling as she arched her back, her breasts pressing to his chest as she craned her head to the left, his lips pressing to her neck again.

"Draco-"

The knock at the door reset her senses as harshly as a bucket of ice cold water would have, and she wasn't alone. In an instant, every muscle in Draco's back tensed under her fingers, and then vanished as he pulled himself away. She watched as a look of supreme guilt washed over him, a feeling that she shared.

Almost simultaneously, they each sat up and faced opposite ways off the bed, as Draco cleared his throat.

"Y-yes, Whittle?" He called, his mind drawing he same obvious conclusion that hers had. Whittle always knocked at this time, every morning, to inform them of breakfast -- both of them had just forgotten in the moment, it seemed.

"M-master Malfoy. Miss Granger. Breakfast will be finished shortly." She called through.

"Thank you, Whittle." Hermione called back, her voice threatening to break as she felt her heart pound harder and faster in her chest.

She was hot, her temperature had shot up. She was shaking. Her eyes were starting to brim with tears, and an insurmountable Lahar of guilt smashed her mind to dust.

"Fuck this can't be happening. I shouldn't have done that, why did I do that?" She began rambling, her breaths now coming in heavy, heaving sobs as the tears began to fall from her eyes, falling down through the air to be absorbed by her nightdress. "How could I do that? How could I let this happen?" 

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have-" she heard Draco say, before she interrupted him.

"Draco, please, just... Just," Her voice was quiet, and interrupted as she sniffed, trying to prevent her nose from blocking, unsuccessfully. "Just leave me alone."

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. Really, I shouldn't have done that," He said, climbing from the bed and moving toward the foot of it. "I knew I shouldn't but I... Please, I'm so sorry."

"I'm not angry at you," she said, turning her head to look at him. Her tears staining her cheeks. "I'm not angry at you." She repeated, sincerely. "I'm angry at... Look, just, please Draco. Just leave me alone for a bit. G-go have breakfast. Just make some excuse for me." She continued, looking down at her lap, "I'm not hungry anyway."

He stood there, silence once again inhabiting the space between them. He stood there for what felt, to her, like minutes, though it probably wasn't.

"Okay." He turned and moved toward the door, but before she heard the handle turn and the latch disengage, he spoke again. "I'll... I'll never touch you again. I'm sorry."

The door opened, and then closed, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

It was only then she noticed what a bad idea sending him away had been. 

As the room fell into silence, the only sound she could hear was the rattling guilt and self loathing that threatened to shake her apart. She leaned forward, placing her head in her hands, and wept. Images and memories of Ron, and their first and only kiss kept replaying in her head, and every time it did it only compounded her guilt further. Driving it into her like a knife.

She didn't know how long she sat there, before the knock roused her from her stupor, and she lifted her head slightly. Clearing her throat, and wiping her eyes, terrified it might be Lucius or Narcissa, she called out. "Yes?"

"It's Whittle, M-miss Granger. I brought you some food."

"Not now, Whittle, please. Ju- just leave me alone, please." She replied, looking back to her lap but snapping her gaze round when the door opened regardless.

"With respect, Miss Granger, Whittle is a f-free elf. Whittle doesn't have to do what you say an-nd, Whittle suspects that, being alone is the last thing Miss Granger needs." Whittle said, stepping in an closing the door, a bowl in her hand.

"Whittle, everything's going wrong..." She said, unable to hold back her thoughts and feelings, "Everything is going wrong." She started crying again, her eyes already raw and stinging.

Whittle snapped her fingers, the bowl floating from her hand to land on the coffee table across the room, as she moved swiftly around the bed before climbing up beside her and taking her hand.

"What has happened, has Master M-Malfoy done something wrong?" She asked.

"He's done everything wrong, Whittle." She replied, looking the elf in her large, welcoming eyes before looking down again at her own nightdress. "He's... He's done everything wrong. You were right, Whittle. He's... He wasn't meant to care, and he wasn't meant to make me... He was supposed to be the vile, hateful, twisted boy I knew at Hogwarts. I was ready for that, I could have dealt with that. He wasn't supposed to be- -- I wasn't supposed to..." She stammered, unable to say the truth about it, her words seizing in her throat, a wracking sob escaping her in their stead. "You were right. Why did you have to be right?" She leaned over, as Whittle moved a hand to her shoulder and pulled her in.

Whittle didn't speak, instead she just lightly stroked her shoulder until she stopped sobbing.

"I- I don't know what to do, Whittle. I- I can't love him. I just can't." Hermione finally spoke, sitting back up, now feeling ashamed on top of everything else.

"Well, first, Miss Granger, Whittle would suggest you eat something." Whittle replied, snapping her fingers.

Hermione looked across and saw the bowl floating over to her atop a swirling cloud. The contents appeared to be a single small spoon partially buried in a mound of broken meringue, cut strawberries, and whipped cream. She smiled slightly taking the bowl.

Rubbing her eyes and nose, and then unceremoniously wiping her hand on her nightdress, she began to slowly eat.

"H-has Miss Granger been in love before?" Whittle asked, now sitting beside her, her hands in her own lap.

Hermione sniffed and nodded, before taking another spoonful.

"And... Did M-Miss Granger choose to love that person?"

She swallowed hard, some of the food not entirely chewed, but she had to reply. "It's not the same, Whittle. It took years, too many bloody years, for me to figure out I loved Ron, and took him even longer. Besides, Ron was... Ron was my friend. Draco... It's not the same. I- I can't love him, it's not right."

"Did you choose to love Master Ron?" She asked again, looking up at her, her eyes wide and expectant, already knowing the answer.

"No, of course I didn't." She smiled, thinking back, "Ron was immature, and scruffy," she smiled, remembering all the times she and Ron had butted heads -- and how many times she saw passed it because of how she felt, even if she didn't know it at the time. "He could be mean sometimes, though he often didn't mean it, just... Making the wrong joke at the wrong time. And... He was a jealous sort. I- I didn't choose to fall in love Ron, I... I couldn't help it." Her smiled turned sad when the reality of his death dawned on her again.

"So, Miss Granger is saying that people do not get to choose the people they love."

"Whittle it's not the sa-"

"Yes it is... Whittle can see that Master Ron is important to Miss Granger, and that Miss Granger still loves him... But Whittle can al-lso see that that love is wasted. M-Master Ron is... Dead, Whittle believes."

Hermione closed her eyes, not wanting more tears to fall from her already painful eyes. She nodded, "Yes. He... He died at Hogwarts."

"And would Master Ron want Miss Granger to be alone for the rest of her life?"

"Whittle you don't understand."

"No. Whittle doesn't. W-Whittle has never been in love, though Whittle has read many of the novels about it in the library. But Whittle has cared for people in the past, and cares for people now -- two m-more than most, and," she stood up, taking the now empty bowl, "Whittle would never want for those she cared about to be alone... For the sake of a memory." She turned and walked back toward the door. "Whittle needs to get back, Whittle has things to do. Do not hate yourself, or M-Master Malfoy for things beyond either of your control... And, m-m-maybe think a bit, before you allow yourself to live solely in the past, Miss Granger." She opened the door and stepped out. 

She sat, twisted around on the bed, looking at the door, thinking about what Whittle had said.

"Not live in the past..." She echoed, smiling sadly, "Were it so easy." 

A few more minutes passed, Hermione taking the time to run a bath and lower herself in, ensuring the bathroom door was locked, before hearing the bedroom door open.

"Hermione? Granger?" She heard Draco say.

"I'm in the bath." She called, double checking the door was locked -- not that it would actually stop anyone with a wand.

"Herm- Granger. I'm sorry. I didn't know Whittle came here until after the fact. I-" 

"It's fine, Draco," She interrupted. She hadn't actually noticing when he started calling her Hermione more frequently than Granger, but now having him check himself was, if she was honest, frustratingly endearing, "It's fine. It was- actually... It helped. She's, uh, she's... Yeah. It's fine."

There was a delay before he finally responded, his voice coming from immediately outside the door.

"I'm sorry, Granger." He said, and though she went to interrupt, she didn't -- wanting to hear what he had to say, and also understanding that he might need to say it, for his own piece of mind. "I didn't mean to... I should have checked first, I should have... I won't... I don't expect anything from you, Granger. I don't expect your affection or your tolerance or anything. I'm sorry I overstepped, I'm sorry I... I'll never touch you again. I'm sorry."

She thought for a moment. Sifting through everything in her own mind, and everything both Whittle and Draco had said. She hadn't bathed yet, but she climbed out anyway, only then noticing that there wasn't a full sized towel in the bathroom.

"Draco." She called out, "Can you get me a towel?" 

"Uh, yeah, yeah of course." She heard him say as she moved over to the door. "Here you go."

"Okay. Don't look, close your eyes."

"Of course." 

She opened the door a crack, seeing him with one hand over his eyes, and the other holding a large white towel.

She took the towel and loosely wrapped it around herself. "Draco?"

He hummed in response, not actually speaking.

"Thank you and..." She shifted her eyes, sorting through a sudden jumble of thoughts that filled her mind, before leaning up and kissing him briefly, his entire body starting as her lips touched his. "Maybe don't say never." She continued after breaking the kiss that lasted for a second, maybe less, "I'm- I'm going to finish my bath... Thanks for the towel."

She retreated back into the bathroom, closing and locking the door before leaning back on it.

The guilt began to rise in her again, but she fought to suppress it as she climbed back into the bath.

"I," she whispered, looking up at the ceiling, "I still love you, Ron. And... I'll never not. You know that, right?" 

She laid there, soaking in the hot water, wondering how she could have ended up developing the same feelings for two people that were so fundamentally different from one another.

Slowly she slid forward in the bath, submerging her head, leaving only her mouth and nose above the water. She stayed there for a while before resurfacing to apply the, surprisingly for Draco, strawberry scented shampoo. After which she massaged it into her scalp, let it sit, and then submerged herself once more.

Pulling the plug and climbing from the bath, she looked herself over, before climbing back in, turning the shower on, and rinsing herself off, simultaneously using her wand, and very careful applications of magic, to shave herself completely.

Once satisfied, she climbed again from the bath, and wrapped herself in the towel he had passed her earlier. Unlocking the door, she walked out, her body covered by the white towel, but her hair hanging down and still dripping. Across the room, she saw Draco, sitting on the couch facing away from her. He turned around to look at her, before smiling. He shifted, she assumed placing a book on the table, before getting up.

"Do you want another towel?" He asked, moving toward the wardrobe.

"No, it's fine. I'll use my wand." She replied, moving passed him to sit on the couch. Readying her wand, she sent a warm stream of air surging from the tip, and began playing it over her hair.

As she did, she watched as Draco fetched a hair brush and offered it to her. She took it, smiling, and began brushing her hair as she dried it. As she did, however, the towel began to loosen, so she had to stop to fix it.

"Here, let me." She heard Draco say, looking up at him as he moved around the table and sat beside her.

"I can manage." She replied.

"I know you can, but, still. Here, turn that way a bit." He smiled, gesturing away from him, as he grabbed his wand and the brush from the couch beside her.

She shifted, twisting to face away from him as she felt the jet of warm arm begin playing over her hair again. As she sat there, holding the towel closed, completely naked beneath it, she felt Draco shift closer to her and begin gently pulling the brush over and through her hair.

She couldn't help but love it. How each brush of her hair stimulated her scalp, and sent ever so subtle waves of pleasure through her. She knew why, of course, a person's scalp is sensitive, and with each pull of the brush, it gently fired dozens of nerves at once. She fully understood the reasoning, but also found she was losing herself in it. For five minutes she sat there, simply enjoying having her hair brushed, and entertaining the absurd, but building arousal she felt in response to it. Eventually, however, mainly to avoid a spiralling series of decisions that she feared she may later regret, she reached back behind her and pushed the brush away.

"C-can you stop now?" She asked, turning toward him, still holding her towel closed.

"Sure, sorry if I pulled your hair or anything." He said placing the brush down.

"No. You didn't. It didn't hurt... Quite the opposite, a bit too much of the opposite in fact." She said, pushing her hair back behind her ear. "I should probably get dressed." She smiled and stood up, carefully holding the towel and moving over toward the wardrobe.

Realising the course the day was taking, and her hand in it despite her concerns, she picked out the most modest attire she could. The outfit she wore just the other day, during their walk around the grounds, a turtleneck and jeans. Vanishing into the bathroom, she pulled the outfit on, and then returned noting Draco waiting by the door out of the bedroom.

"So... Artur Sokolov, and I'll send some letters to places, looking for that book?" He said, gesturing loosely out of the door.

Looking at him, wearing a set of black trousers and a pristine white shirt untucked -- this being as close to casual that she had seen of Draco since his earlier years at Hogwarts, she smiled and nodded, before following him out of the door and toward his study near very top of the house.

They sat in there for a while, Hermione searching through book after book for any mention of Artur Sokolov, though her mind kept returning to the MRC in Wales, and how Ellie might be. Draco drafted up a number of letters, before disappearing briefly, returning with his owl, and send the letters on their way.

"Any luck?" He asked, turning to look at her, pulling the window down, but not fully closed, allowing some fresh air in.

"No, not really, I'm... I'm struggling a bit, if I'm honest. Can't really focus."

"Why? What's the matter?"

"Just... Just thinking back to the camp. I- I had friends there, new friends, nobody from Hogwarts, I'm just... Worried about them, I guess." She replied, looking across at him.

"Want to... Talk about it?"

She looked at him, thinking for a moment. "Maybe later, I- I guess I'd like to just get it all organized, in my head, before. You know?"

He nodded, taking one of the books she hadn't yet gotten to, "Fair enough, just know that you can talk to me... About anything."

She smiled, "Thanks."

He dropped down into a wooden chair, flicking the book open to begin scanning it. They sat there in silence for a few moments before she heard him quietly whistling her earworm from that very morning. It had left her, when they kissed, when she spiralled, but apparently it had lodged itself firmly in Draco's head -- despite knowing only the smallest fraction of it.

"I just got rid of that." She chuckled looking over at him.

It took a second or so for him to acknowledge what he'd been doing, but when he did he chuckled in response. "Oh shit, yeah, sorry."

She smiled and returned to her book before a knock at the door made her turn.

"Yes?" Draco called out.

"Master Malfoy. A Miss Parkinson is here to see you." Whittle called from behind the door.

"Pansy. What does she want?" Hermione asked, looking across at him and standing up.

"No clue. She said she wanted to meet up, but this is pretty soon, and I was expecting a letter or something first." He replied, heading for the door.

She followed him down to the living room, Whittle leading the way. She restrained her emotions, and adopted her hollow, vacant smile as she went, remembering exactly what Pansy did for a living, and reminding herself that she had best just remain as close to silent as she could.

Turning into the living room, she saw Pansy waiting by the fireplace, Lucius and Narcissa sitting on the couch. All three immediately shifted their eyes to Draco as they entered, Lucius and Narcissa wearing expressions of confusion, while Pansy's was... Infuriatingly nondescript.

"Pansy. I wasn't expecting you so soon, but it's always lovely to see you." Draco began, not missing a beat as he swept toward her, his arms open.

She smiled, and hugged him. "Sorry I didn't give forewarning, but I'm... Well, I'm here on business, as well as pleasure." She replied, releasing the hug and allowing Draco to step back. "Granger." She added, nodding over to her.

"Pansy. You look beautiful today." She replied, smiling, and being honest.

"Business? What does the Inquisition need with my son?" Lucius asked, going to stand up.

"Father." Draco, interrupted, holding his hand out to stop his father. "How can I help, Inquisitor?" He continued, turning to Pansy.

"Just a few questions, actually. Yesterday, when you were at the Ministry, you went to the archive, correct?" She asked.

"Uh, yes, right after bumping into you." 

"While there, you requested a book."

"While there, I requested a lot of books," Draco smiled, "To which one are you referring?" He continued, Hermione's pulse quickening.

"Secrets of the Darkest Art."

"Ah, yes. They, they unfortunately did not have it. Is there a problem?"

She couldn't help but marvel at how calm Draco remained.

"Why did you need that book?" Pansy asked, watching him closely.

"Well, as you know, I study magical artefacts." He began, Pansy nodding, "Well the artefact I'm currently studying is proving very difficult to find any information on. Secrets of the Darkest Art is a book I've only heard about, but is rumoured to contain all sorts of esoterica on rarer and more powerful magical artefacts. I was hoping it might shed some light on that WitchBane I'm studying, but, seeing as I can't find a copy, I'm out of luck. Why?"

"I see. Well, I'm afraid that book is forbidden, and when you requested it your name was flagged with the W.I. I assumed but was a simple misunderstanding, or you not knowing the forbidden nature of what you sought, so I requested to handle the questioning. Some of my peers can be, a bit heavy handed. So, if I were you, I would try finding my information elsewhere." Pansy explained, nodding to Draco's reasoning as if it was her assumption.

"Oh, I had no idea. I'm sorry for increasing your workload, but, simultaneously, it was a convenient excuse to see each other again." He smiled, "Still, I should let you know that, just this morning, I sent a number of requests out seeking information on, or a copy of, that very book -- so, you may get a few more reports. I shall, of course, inform you immediately should any of them approach me attempting to sell a copy."

"I'll inform my superiors, and see that you do. That book is forbidden for a reason." She replied.

"Do you know, and may I ask, why?" He asked.

"You can ask... But I don't know. I would assume, as we are all aware, that dark magic can be incredibly dangerous. I'm assuming that that book contains information that even the Dark Lord himself considered too dangerous."

"Then that's all the reason I need to avoid it." Draco smiled.

"Quite, but as I said, and you are right, this was a convenient excuse to see you again... All of you," she smiled, looking around at Lucius and Narcissa, "It really has been too long."

"Quite. It's nice to have a young woman under the roof that isn't a mudblood." Narcrissa replied, glancing over at her Hermione, a glance she tried to ignore.

"Well, she was a gift from the Dark Lord, and I can't believe that Draco resents her presence -- gives her chance to atone for all her entitled nonsense from our school years. Doesn't it Draco?" Pansy smirked.

"Well, out of respect for my mother and father, I choose not to comment." He replied. "Please sit down, do you have time for a drink?" 

"A quick cup of coffee, yeah, if you don't mind." She smiled, Draco waving Whittle to fetch coffee as if he still owned her, Whittle reacting in kind.

"Well, Narcissa and I have a previous engagement with the Bulstrodes, unless we are required by the W.I?" Lucius stood up.

"Oh no, but thank you for your patience Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy." Pansy replied, smiling at them.

"Still, next time you are able, Pansy, do drop in. I'd love to chat." Narcissa interjected, as she followed Lucius out.

"I'm sure to, and thank you for the invitation." She said, before waiting a few seconds for them to be out of earshot. "So, Draco, you're parents aren't here. Tell me all about what you make this fucking mudblood do." Pansy smirked, opening her coat, revealing a light grey blouse beneath, along with a black underbust corset adorned with numerous fastenings and buckles, undoubtedly a deliberate choice by Pansy as it matched the uniform coat of the W.I. perfectly. The corset accentuated her figure in such a way that it, combined with the heavy duty trousers, multiple pouches that adorned her belt, the buckle of which was the insignia of the W.I., and the black combat boots she wore, took what could have been a rather unflattering silhouette, and made it both sexual and threatening. Exactly what Hermione had expected of Pansy, though she couldn't help by admit that it worked.

"I'd rather talk about you." Draco replied, moving around to sit on the opposite end if the couch from her, gesturing to the chair, a gesture that Hermione took and sat down. "What's it like working the the W.I. I, honestly, can't imagine there is just resistance to the Dark Lord."

"Much? No. But what there is is well organized, though small. But, Draco, come on... Stop teasing. You mentioned a few times, back at school, what you'd do if you get her to herself. Now you have, don't hold out on me." Pansy answered, before returning the conversation to her preferred topic.

Hermione was curious about what exactly Draco had said back at school, in relation to what Pansy had just mentioned. She knew that Draco was a different person back then, and there's a lot to be said for his younger arrogance, so she wouldn't hold anything against him... But she was curious.

"Fine, I'll ask her. If you're being so cagey about it. Honestly Draco... Granger." She continued, Hermione smiling at her.

"Yes, Pansy?"

"Draco said that the only thing muggles could really be trusted to do was breed, so you must have already been a slut when we were at school. Was he right?"

"Oh. No. Draco was the first person I'd ever slept with, not that he was gentle about it." She replied, embellishing as she assumed Pansy would enjoy, though the state of her virginity would have been accurate, had she and Draco slept together.

"Oh, is that so? Draco, you brute." Pansy smirked.

"Quite." Draco replied, Hermione glancing at him as Pansy looked her, seeing the worry in his eyes. She simply nodded lightly at him, she didn't mind coming up with this stuff if he felt uncomfortable doing it.

"Yes. He wasn't gentle at all." Hermione said, noticing that Pansy had seen her nod, and span it that she was agreeing with her, as opposed to communicating with Draco.

"Draco did always like the dominant role when we messed around at school as well, so that doesn't surprise me in the least. Has he done your ass yet?" She asked, as Whittle brought the coffee through, Pansy looking away from her briefly to retrieve her cup -- a blissful reprieve, as Hermione was sure her unphased exterior cracked slightly given Pansy's question. Luckily, she regained it before she looked back.

"Oh, yes, the second day. The moment the Dark Lord gave me to him, we went up to his room and he fucked me. Then at, what was it Draco... 5am? Yes, 5am, I think, he woke up, told me suck him, which if course I did gladly, and then fucked my ass until he was done." She replied, smiling at Pansy, and unable to prevent herself getting turned on by the situations her mind was creating on the fly.

"Bet that hurt, didn't it, you mudblooded whore?"

"Oh yes, but... Well, the second or third time he did it, I'd rather grown to enjoy it." 

"I'm surprised, Draco." Pansy said, looking across at him as he grabbed his cup, Hermione taking hers. "I can't quite understand why you're being so cagey about it all. I'd rather expected you to be gloating about finally getting Granger here moaning beneath you."

"Oh, no. I'd happily gloat, I was simply more curious about what you've been doing since Hogwarts... Plus, now it's started, it's quite entertaining hearing Granger talk about it." He replied, maintaining his exterior. He was an accomplished liar, Hermione thought, and aside from his implied and expected rape of her, she hadn't seen anything phase him.

"Well, honestly, we should probably change the subject, if this conversation keeps going I'll find it most difficult to focus on work." She smirked.

"That's a shame. I was rather looking forward to telling you about when Draco choked me," Hermione began, pointing at her, "right where you're sitting now."

"Maybe next time." Pansy smiled, shooting a wicked grin over at Draco. "So, what's this WitchBane?"

Hermione sat, quietly drinking her coffee and listening to Draco describe the WitchBane, though he omitted certain details and events, until Pansy upended her cup into her mouth, drinking the last few dribbles of coffee, before placing the cup on the tray and getting up.

"Well, I must dash. I can fudge how long I've been here easily enough, but any longer and my superiors may start asking questions... Bloody slave drivers." She chuckled.

Draco stood up and moved over to her, arms open. "Well, it's been lovely seeing you again Pansy. We should do so again, when you're not on the clock." 

Hermione watched as Pansy accepted the hug, but imposed her own stipulation. Her left arm went around Draco, as one might expect, but her right was sandwiched between them, Hermione instinctually looking away as she saw her rub him through this trousers. "You can count on it." 

Watching her step away, Draco smiling at her, Hermione couldn't stop he flare if anger and jealousy from burning through her.

Pansy grabbed a handful of Floo powder and stepped into he fireplace.

"Ministry Atrium." She said clearly, before throwing the powder down and vanishing in a roar of green flame.

The moment she vanished, so too did Draco's smile, immediately replaced with a look of contempt.

"She hasn't changed much." He began, turning to look at her fully. "I'm sorry about all of that, about all the stuff you had say, I.. I just couldn't think."

"No, it's okay. I can't count on you to be able to lie all the time... Everyone has their limits." She replied, drinking the last of her own coffee. Once she drank the last of it, a thought occurred to her, and she looked seriously at Draco.

"What?" He asked.

"You aunt in coming in a few days isn't she?"

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath.

"Yeah. You're going to have to get comfortable lying about sleeping with me."

"What, why?"

"Draco..." She looked at him, her expression one of explaining something to someone who should already know better. "She picked me out for you specifically, knowing exactly what I would be... Well, used for. No aunt would do that unless they had an unhealthy interest in their nephew. I guarantee you, she'll ask, and she won't be as willing for substitution as Pansy was."

"What? I- are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. I may be wrong, I hope I am, but... Well, nothing else about that woman is normal so..."

"Shit." He sighed, sinking back down on the couch.

She moved over to him and sat next to him. "You know, I don't think anything about our chosen path is going to be easy." She said, her hands in her lap.

"I think you may be right."

"Things worth doing seldom are though." She smiled weakly, looking over at him, him simply nodding in response. "Then there's the Pansy issue... You had to invite her back, I get that, but... Well, what happens when she takes you up on the invitation?"

Draco sighed heavily, his eyes shifting as he sifted through multiple thoughts before finally replying, "I'll have to sleep with her."

"Ah, so we're on the same page." She agreed, not seeing how Pansy would accept anything but, without it ringing alarm bells.

"Yeah. She'll become suspicious if I don't -- then, there's also what my mother said to you the other day." He replied, looking at her, his eyes speaking of how much he wasn't looking forward to that.

"She's pretty though, so..."

"Yeah," he scoffed, looking away, "on the outside. I- we, will need to think of some way to keep you out of it... I don't want her touching you."

"I don't particularly want her touching you either." She replied, unable to look at him as she said it. She was still surprised about how jealous Pansy, and her history with Draco, made her... But she also couldn't ignore it.

"Hopefully my inquiries about that book will still yield something, even if capitalising on it would take some... Creative problem solving." Draco said after an awkward silence had begun to bloom between them.

"Hopefully."

It was then that Whittle reappeared, walking in and taking the tray. "With Mr and Mrs Malfoy out for the evening, w-what would you like Whittle to prepare for dinner?" She asked.

"Oh, take the night off. I'll cook." Draco replied, looking at her. "I'm not as good a cook as you, I'm sure, but I know my way around a kitchen."

"You do?" Hermione asked, somewhat surprised that the ever privileged Draco Malfoy had taken the time to learn how to cook.

"Yes. Try not to faint." He chuckled.

She was still surprised, but, after following him through to the kitchen, watching him cook, and then eating the risotto stuffed peppers he made -- she had to admit, he was a fair cook. After the meal, they cleaned up together, before changing into her nightdress, returning to the living room and, for the first time since she arrived at Malfoy Manor, relaxed for the evening.

She sat, next to Draco, with a glass of wine and just read a book that she wanted to read... Not for research, just because she wanted to. It was still research, as that was what she liked doing, but she was just review spell theory -- helping her get back into the swing of things after 7 months of not casting a thing. As the evening progressed she looked across at Draco, seeing him contentedly engrossed in his own book, and she couldn't help but smile slightly. She often pictured, back at Hogwarts, what her future with Ronald might have looked like, and the one thing she knew she'd never have gotten, which she had longed for, was an evening like this. Just sitting, quietly, in each other's company, reading. She had loved Ron, and still did, but he was never much of a reader.

He glanced across, looking away from his book briefly, and saw her looking at him. She failed to suppress another smile, and returned her gaze to her book, seeing him do the same through her periphery.

It wasn't long after until she closed her book, stifled a yawn, and looked across at him. "I'm going to head to bed. No idea when your parents are due back, and, well."

"Yeah, that's a good point. I can't imagine they'd be pleased knowing that you, well us but their issue would be with you, opened this very expensive bottle of wine." He laughed, holding up the currently unfinished bottle.

She looked over and, though she didn't know much about wine... Anything really, she could see it looked expensive. "How much? No, actually, I don't want to know... It, uh, it wasn't even that great."

"No, expensive wines are usually just expensive because some rich prick says they are." He scoffed, pressing the cork back in, "Still, I'll take it up and keep it. They're less likely to notice a missing bottle than they are a half empty one."

They moved up to bed, sorted themselves out, and were soon laid next to each other again. She laid on her right side, looking off the bed. She didn't know about Draco, but she didn't feel his eyes on her.

"Goodnight Draco." She said softly.

"Goodnight Hermione."

She smiled, and the laid there for, she assumed nearly an hour, unable to sleep. She was uncomfortable, and her body was refusing to allow her to rest until she did what it wanted.

Pretending as though she was asleep, she rolled over to face him, unsure if he was or not, and placed her hand on his side. Then, and only then, after stretching her legs once last time, delighting in her muscles exerting and relaxing, was she finally able to sleep. 


	8. Chapter 8

[[[ Again. Sorry for any typos etc.

Long one, this one. ]]]

__________

**Part Eight.**

Lifting the bacon from pan to buttered bread, he leaned over and flicked the hob off, before levitating the pan to the already bubble filled sink. Snatching up both a bottle of red sauce and a bottle of brown, he applied a conservative amount of one to one, and the other to the other of the otherwise prepared sandwiches, before plating them and transfering them to the tray that already held two steaming mugs of freshly brewed coffee. From there, he took up the tray, checked the clock, and moved through the house and up to his room -- where she was, hopefully, still asleep.

Opening the door, and closing it behind him, he walked in and sat on the bed, placing the tray beside him. Looking down she was indeed still asleep, laying on her side, facing the spot he would have been in had he not awoken early, her hair falling slightly over her face. He reached down to brush it aside but stopped short, instead clenching his first and pulling away.

"Granger." He said softly. "Granger... Hermione."

She shifted on the bed before her eyes slowly opened and looked up at him.

"Hey." She said warmly, still in the grasp of sleep.

"Hey." He replied, smiling at her.

Her sleep addled brain soon spun up, and the warmth in her eyes was partially, though not completely, replaced by a more serious edge. "Um, good morning." She said, sliding up the bed to sit up.

"Good morning." He echoed, still unable to suppress the warmth in his demeanor.

"What-" she swallowed, her mouth likely dry after sleeping so long. "What time is it?"

"Oh, uh," he looked across at the clock, "twenty to ten."

"Twenty to ten?!" She started, suddenly very awake, "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Saw no need. My parents usually, and this time was no exception, stay the night at the Bulstrode's when they visit them. So, I woke up early, gave Whittle the morning off, and let you sleep in." He explained, picking up her cup of coffee and passing it to her. "Of course, it was only after that I realized I can't make a breakfast half as nice as she can, but, bacon sandwiches are never a bad start to a day," he continued picking up both plates, "that being said, I don't know if you prefer red or brown, so I made both."

She swallowed the sip of coffee and placed her mug back down, smiling. "Brown, please."

"Brown." He echoed passing her the appropriate plate before taking a bite of his sandwich.

"What do you parents do at the Bulstrode's? You make it sound like a regular thing." She asked, taking a bite of her own.

"Regular? No, not really," he began, after swallowing, "this would be the... Third? Yeah, third time since the Dark Lord returned. As for what they do? Honestly, I don't know, and nor do I care. If I had to guess, however, I'd say the Bulstrode's are looking to improve their standing, and are planning on getting close to my family to do it." He said, taking a sip of his coffee, "Not a terrible plan, on paper, but my parents aren't likely to actually help them in the slightest. If I had to put money on it, I'd say my parents are simply abusing their hospitality and generosity. They've done it before."

She hummed in agreement, a mouth full of sandwich preventing her from speaking. When she did finally swallow, however, she spoke. "And, what's the plan for the day?"

"I don't have one." He replied honestly. "What would you like to do?"

"Aside from get that book?" She began, picking up her wand and using it to move the curtains over the windows aside.

"Yeah, it's pissing it down, I'm afraid." He said, looking out at the rain that seemed to fall with no reprieve.

"Hmm. I don't really know." She said.

"Well, take your time and think. I'm up for whatever." He replied, taking the last of his sandwich, and picking up his mug again.

She looked across at him, smiling. Her purple nightdress had a plunging neckline that did nothing to help the situation, and he had to fight down the urge kiss her again.

"What's wrong?" She asked, picking up on his discomfort.

"Nothing, not important." He replied, shifting slightly on the bed and taking another sip of coffee.

"Draco. Tell me?"

He thought for a second, unable to admit what was actually troubling him, and instead settled on something else that had been on his mind. "What Pansy said yesterday, about there being a resistance movement... A group of actual rebels. We should probably try to contact them, though I have no idea how."

She nodded, accepting his answer but, he could see, not remotely convinced by it. "I was thinking the same. I can't imagine they would be easy to contact, as if they were, they likely would have been wiped out by now. Still, we should look into it."

Now he was actually thinking about it, a thought occurred. "Actually, we may not need to. I mean, you're Hermione Granger. One of the three that really got the Dark Lord worried... Chances are, if we keep going out and my parents gloat, as I'm expecting they are, the resistance will likely find us. They would definitely want you, and they definitely couldn't abide the thought of you being here with me. As soon as they learn your out in the world, and not behind the layers of defenses the MRCs have, they'll probably come and get you."

"And likely kill you in the process." She added firmly.

"So be it." He responded instantly, not even needing a second to weigh up his worth to hers.

"No. Not so be it, Draco. I won't-" she began, before he interrupted her.

"Obviously I don't want to die... N-not anymore anyway. But were it not for you, I would have been dead for, what, six days now. If my last experience is knowing that you get out of here, with people who can protect you and give you a fighting chance to bring that psychopath and his ilk down... I'll die happy." He interrupted.

"I wouldn't." She said firmly, lowering her cup and cradling it in both hands. "I don't want you to die, Draco. You don't deserve to die and... Look, Draco, about yesterday-"

A violent explosion swatted her words from the sky as the far wall and window were destroyed, pulled outward, showering stone, wood, and glass to the ground below. Draco, grabbed her forearm, hard, and dragged her forcefully off the bed, cutting over the cups and tray as he did. He knew he hurt her in that moment, grabbing her as hard as he did, and dragging her from the bed onto the floor, but he couldn't not.

Raising his wand, crouched behind the bed, his other hand on Hermione's shoulder, keeping her on the ground, he peered above the bed only to recoil immediately as a flare of magic, not one he could identify in the split second he had, stuck the mattress scant inches from his head.

"The fuck?!" He hissed, looking down at Hermione. "Where's your wand?"

"On the bed, under my pillow." She whispered.

"Come out, Draco. Let's get this over with!" He heard a voice sound over the drumming rain, a distorted voice, a voice warped by magic.

"Give me your wand." Hermione said, snatching his wand from him. He watched as she shifted, laying on her back instead of her side, and stabbed his wand toward the bed. "Accio wand."

She held her hand out, catching her wand as it flew toward her, handing Draco his back.

Not understanding why he hadn't thought of that, he instead jabbed his wand toward the ceiling, above where he had last seen their assailant. "Bombarda!"

The shattering of wood filled the room again as the ceiling cracked and caved inward. He didn't see if it worked, but the exclamation from their assailant had him assuming it had at least displaced her, and in response he got to his feet and with a flick of his wand, upended the bed onto its side, providing better cover for Hermione and himself.

Leaning around the side of the bed, he slashed his wand horizontally in front of him, a field of blue absorbing another spell that his opponent sent in his direction. It was only then, as he twisted his arm and thrust his wand forward, loosing a solid of bolt of red light, a Stunning spell, at his target, only for it to be harmlessly deflected, did he get a good look at his opponent.

She appeared to be female, wearing garb that was somewhat familiar. A large brown great coat, akin to the one Alastor Moody had worn, atop rough but hard wearing and functional clothing. We're it not for the pair of biological legs, and the fact that this person was a woman, he could have sworn he was fighting a young Moody. Their face, however, was obscured by a mask, a mask that covered everything above the nose, a mask that was stylised into the visage of a wolf, and appeared to be made of a rich wood. From behind the mask, he could see short black hair, mid length, with a deliberate messy cut.

She brought her wand up in a rapid arc, sending the coffee table spiralling toward him, only for him to shatter it to splinters with another swift casting. Another stab of red light lashed toward his aggressor from the other side of the upturned bed as Hermione stepped out, loosing a Stunning spell of her own. That spell was also deflected harmlessly, seeming to swatted from the air as their aggressor brought her wand around, sending the bolt of red careening into the wardrobe door, cracking it.

He watched, bringing his wand around in a wide arc, pointing toward the ground, and he could see that she, whoever this figure was, was shocked at the fact that she was having to fight two people.

He loosed his spell, wordlessly sending the shards of coffee table hurtling toward her like so many wooden knives. He knew she'd block it, but he hoped that, in the process, it would give Hermione the opening she needed.

It didn't.

He had, it appeared, underestimated this woman's skill. Instead of throwing up a defensive spell, as he had expected, she instead pulled the couch toward her and upended it, the cushions and frame being lacerated and punctured by the sabres of wood. Immediately after this, she outdid herself again, by predicting Hermione's movements and loosing her spell a fraction of a second before Granger turned from behind the bed. The ropes she had conjured striking and restraining Hermione the moment she appeared, practically walking into the spell.

His looking at Hermione as she fell to the ground, writhing against the ropes that restrained her, but seemed not to constrict as he knew they could, seemed to be all the distraction his assailant needed.

The screech of wood on wood filled his ears as he saw the couch, still standing on its arm, slide toward him before pitching down, driving him into he wall, and then forcing him up it.

He was suspended, the legs of the couch above his shoulders, while the base of it pressed to his throat. He had to drop his wand to reach up and grab the legs of the couch, trying to hold up his weight to stop himself choking on the wooden frame. By all rights the couch should have fallen, its position untenable, but he could see his assailant holding it there, her wand outstretched toward it.

"Draco!" Hermione called out, writhing harder against the ropes.

"Why do you have a wand?" The figure asked, looking across at Granger, her voice distorted.

"Piss off!" Hermione snapped in response.

"You," his assailant asked, shifting her gaze to him, "order her to speak the truth."

"She- she's not under the Imperius curse, I can't order her to do anything." He replied, struggling to speak, struggle to keep himself from choking.

"Liar. Order her to speak the truth!"

"Granger. Tell- her the truth." He sputtered, gazing across at her, seeing the unfettered fury in Hermione's eyes, even though her form was restrained.

"Draco got me the wand, and I'm not under the fucking Imperius curse." She snarled.

The figure stood for a moment, breathing heavily, casting her gaze back and forth between the two of them. "Why?"

"You know enough, just kill us already. Get it over with." Hermione spat.

"Oh, for fu- I'm here to save you Granger. To take you to the Resistance. I'm not going to kill you." His assailant said, as if speaking to an idiot child. "You, however," she continued, looking back at him, "you I might kill. So things had better start making sense really fucking quick." She dropped her wand, the couch immediately falling and him along with it.

He hit the floor, hard, falling onto his side. Opening his eyes, wincing in pain, he climbed to his feet to see her still standing there, her wand aimed firmly at his chest, with his and Hermione's in her other hand. She flicked her wand across at Granger, releasing the bindings, the ropes vanishing into most, before aiming her wand, once again, at his chest.

"Explain." She said looking at Granger. "One move, Malfoy. Give me a reason." She added, casting a quick glance to him before resettling it on Hermione.

"I was brought her six days ago. Minutes after the Dark Lord left, Draco lifted the curse. I've had my own mind since then. He tried to get me to leave, to run, but I didn't. I've been here ever since, pretending for the rest of the world to still be under." She explained, rubbing her wrists as she got up, and replacing the shoulder strap of her nightdress that had fallen loose.

"What? Why, why stay?"

"Where else would I go? I'd been the MRC for 7 months, can't help but notice that no rescued attempts were made when I was in there." She glared, "I had no wand, though Draco offered me his, and I hadn't used magic months. I would have been alone, on the run, in a world that would sell me out in a heartbeat. It was smarter and safer to stay here, and the fact he freed me in the first place meant that his company was safer than most."

"But," the figure reached up, grabbing the side of her mask and pulling it free, scattering it to brown smoke, revealing the confused, and conflicted face of Pansy Parkinson, her voice returning to normal after the mask vanished, "what you said yesterday?"

"Pansy?" He sputtered, shifting forward slightly, only to to stop instantly as her wand was trained on him again

"You shut up." She snarled, before looking back at Hermione. "You said he was raping you, every night."

"Of course I did." Hermione replied, recovering quickly from her own surprise at seeing Pansy. "You're a member of the W.I., and a blood supremacist, you're literally working for the Dark Lord. Of course I said those things. That's what I'm here for, it's what's expected of me. Now stop threatening him."

"Yeah, no. I don't buy it. You're both coming with me, the Remnant can sort it out, and if you've been lying," she looked across at Draco, "If you've laid a finger on her... I wouldn't want to be in your shoes."

"Why should we trust you? You're a member of the Inquisition." Hermione asked, squaring her shoulders.

"Oh, that's my mistake, I must have implied you had a choice." She smirked, "Come on." She said, looking at him gesturing for him to move toward Hermione.

"Fine, but if I were you, I'd fix this mess. The longer it takes my parents to realize I'm missing, the better." He said, gesturing to the battleground his bedroom had become.

Pansy glared at him, "Reparo." She said clearly twirling her wand.

He watched as the bed shifted and quietly positioned itself back where it lived. The couch then did the same as the coffee table reassembled itself out of thousands of shards of wood it had been reduced to, like the most complicated and satisfying jigsaw puzzle he had ever witnessed. The coffee mugs and plates clicked back together and positioned themselves, once more, atop the tray. The furthest wall reconstructed itself, as wooden beams, stone blocks, and glass panels seemed to meld and reform as if the damage had never existed. By the time Pansy lowered her wand, the room looked exactly as it had been before her arrival.

"Satisfied?" She asked rhetorically. "Hold on," she said firmly and literally, referring to side-along apparition, "if I have to make two trips, the next time we do this you'll be in chains." She said coldly, matter-of-factly as she watched Hermione put her hand on his shoulder. A motion he then copied, placing his hand on Pansy's.

He took a deep breath, and by the time he exhaled, he was in a completely different place, though the wind remained cold, and the rain was there also. It wasn't a terrible imposition for him, as he had managed to get dressed before preparing breakfast. Hermione however was still in a fairly thin nightdress.

"Come on, Granger. Let's get you in before you catch a cold... Oh, don't mention who I am in here. Most the people here don't know who I am -- compartmentalization." Pansy said, reapplying her mask, it seeming to form out of brown smoke, before playing her wand across the air in front of them.

The world seemed to part, as the cold, rain filled wood they were in seemed to peel apart as they watched, revealing a collections of tents, tents that Draco knew were enchanted to be considerably larger within than without. Reality peeled apart before them, like two huge sheets of fabric, and Pansy ushered them both in. The moment they crossed the threshold, it sealed instantly behind them. Though they were still outside, the wind was gone, the air was warm, and the rain, he could see, was vanishing about six meters above them -- simply ceasing to exist.

The tents that Draco had seen numbered seven, and were arranged in a crescent, three on either side of a larger central tent. In the bow of the crescent was a large bonfire that seemed to produce far less heat than Draco expected, undoubtedly limited by magic -- its output being only what was required at the time.

As they entered, a number of other figures, all wearing a mismatch of clothing, with no single identifiable theme or uniform style, drew their wands only to lower them as they saw the wolf-masked Pansy, and Hermione Granger.

"Come on, they'll be waiting for you in the central tent." Pansy said, gesturing forward, "Run, and you won't make it three meters." She added side-eyeing Draco.

As they moved through, approaching, and soon passing the bonfire, Draco heard muttering coming from the others present. Some minor gasps at seeing Hermione, others muffled jeers at him. Soon enough, however, Pansy grabbed the entrance to the central tent and pulled it open, beckoning them to enter.

The interior of the tent was larger, as he expected, but seeing the exterior was already large, the interior was enormous. It was dominated by a single room, the room they entered into, that played host to a large wooden table, surrounded by a series of mismatched chair. The walls were punctuated by a series of other flaps, each undoubtedly leading to separate room, though they were all closed currently, preventing him any insight as to their purpose.

"Granger!" He heard a familiar voice call, looking across to see a white haired, yellow eyed, predatory woman, a woman who seemed far younger than she had any right to, stand from her chair and sweep across the space to embrace her.

"Madam Hooch." He heard Hermione reply, the joy she felt making her voice quiver.

"Rolanda, please. I'm not your professor anymore." She said, finally releasing her but still holding her shoulders firmly, her smile wide, and her yellow eyes shining... Until they shifted across to him, at which point they narrowed.

"Madam Hooch." He said, trying to keep his face level.

"Why is he here?" She asked, looking across at Pansy who was pulling her mask off, it scattering to smoke once again.

"It wasn't as easy as all that." Pansy replied.

"Please... Uh, Rolanda, he's not the person he was." Hermione interrupted.

"So she's told me. I'm not entirely convinced she's not under the Imperius Curse, but she wouldn't leave without him. I figured we could figure out the truth here. Has Poppy got any?" She asked, immediately covering her face as one of the side panels opened and another figure that he could hardly believe was still breathing stepped out.

"I thought that was you. Put your hand down Pansy." She said, before crossing the distance swiftly and pressing her lips to hers. The kiss, though not deep, though Draco assumed from the willingness on both sides that that was for the sake of the audience, not themselves, it was long. Eventually she pulled free before looking across at Hermione. "Hermione!"

"Lavender! I thought you were dead." Hermione replied, her response delayed by the sight she had just witness, and only left her mouth a second before she was enveloped in Lavender Brown's arms.

"Has-as Poppy got any?" Pansy repeated, pulling her eyes from Lavender.

"I believe so. I'll go get her. Uh..." Hooch began, glancing quickly across at Hermione still engulfed by Lavender, before looking back, "Good job." She smiled, before disappearing through one of many exits to the room.

"I thought Fenrir killed you." He heard Hermione say once finally released.

"Nearly, Poppy and Filch saved me... Just. Powdered Silver and Dittany." She replied, smiling at her, her hair restrained in the two tails she often sported when back at school, but now with a light pink and purple silken scarf around her neck -- undoubtedly concealing the scars left by her attack.

"Wait," Hermione began, "doesn't that mean..."

Lavender nodded, "Yeah. I'm a... I'm a werewolf. Luckily we have enough potion to keep me under control, for the most part... And on the days when we don't, well, they lock me up. Sucks but... Better than the alternative." It was then she looked across at the other figure in the room, at the figure wearing black trousers and white button up shirt -- a him. "Draco." She said darkly.

"Lavender." He replied, nodding to her.

"What is he doing here?" She asked looking across at Pansy, who simply gestured back toward Granger.

"He's not who he was, Lav. He's been helping me try to find a way to take down the Dark Lord. He- he hasn't had me under the Imperius curse, he got me a wand." Hermione explained, gesturing to her wand affixed to Pansy's belt. "He's risked a lot trying to help me, Lav. Give him a chance."

"Oh we'll give him a chance," Pansy interrupted, "it's not that I don't want to believe you, Granger. It's that I can't. Belief, however, won't be necessary if Poppy has any."

It was then that the flap that Hooch had exited from opened again and she returned, with Poppy Pomfrey in tow.

"Madam Pomfrey." Hermione smiled.

"Miss Granger. It's so good seeing you again. Rolanda has told me what's going on. This," she said, walking in a holding out a small glass vial, "should clear things up beyond a shadow of a doubt." She offered the vial to him, which he accepted.

"What is it?" He asked, pulling the glass stopper free and smelling it.

"Veritaserum." She replied.

"Look, I'm telling you, he's-" Hermione began before he interrupted.

"It's fine, Hermione. I don't mind. Can somebody get her something to put over top of that. Your attack dog destroyed my house before she had chance to get dressed." He said, downing the contents of the tiny vial and passing it back, turning his head as another figure walked in. "Wood." He acknowledged, nodding toward Oliver Wood as he entered.

"This'll be good." Wood replied, looking at him, and then at the empty vial.

"Is Hermione Granger currently under the effects of the Impeirus Curse?" Pansy asked, moving around in front of him, the question undoubtedly directed at him, though she was handing her brown great coat to Hermione to drape over her shoulders.

"No." He replied, looking at her, then at Hermione, then back to the assembled group.

"Has she been under the Imperius Curse at any point since she was placed in your charge?" Hooch asked.

"Yes."

"But only when there was no alternative, or when I requested it." Hermione interjected.

"Why would you request it?" Lavender asked, wheeling to face her again.

"It's not- it's not the easiest thing to pretend... Especially when under the eyes of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. He only applied the curse when I needed him to." She explained, defending his admission.

"We've heard rumours, stories, about exactly what the purpose of the Muggle-borns are, that are to be sent to Pure Blood families such as yours, Draco. So, have you ever forced yourself on, or taken advantage of, Hermione? Be it with her under the Imperius Curse or not."

He looked across at her, smiling sadly, seeing her eyes widen as she realized what he couldn't not say.

"Yes."

"No! No, he hasn't." She interrupted, getting to her feet and moving over to him, seemingly to put herself between the assembled and him, as futile a gesture as it was.

"He stupidly thinks he has, regardless of what I say on the matter." She turned, putting her back toward the group and looking down at him as he sat on one of the many mismatched chairs. "Kissing me, when I kiss you, is not you forcing yourself on me." She said to him, deliberately omitting the situation if which he was referring before wheeling back. "You've already ascertained that we weren't lying. Do you really need to pry any further?"

"Yes, I'm afraid. I'm sorry, Hermione, but there's too much at risk." Lavender replied.

"I don't mind, Hermione. Let them ask." He said, reaching up and gently moving her aside.

"Are you loyal to the Dark Lord, or any of his followers?" Wood asked.

"No."

"When did that change?" Pansy asked, hunkering down and looking him in the eye.

"I don't know. There was no one moment... Just lots of little ones. It didn't really hit home until after the Battle of Hogwarts-" he began.

"After it was too late." Pansy said softly, making him nod in agreement.

"Exactly. After I witnessed, and got to experience the world that I'd be told for my whole life would be better. So- so, I shut myself off. Stayed at home studying, researching, throwing myself into anything I could so that I didn't have to look out of the window at the world I'd helped create." He smiled, amusedly, "Didn't work of course. So I-"

"Draco, you don't have to-" Hermione interrupted, but he silenced her with a raised hand.

"So I paid a visit to Knockturn Alley. Got a nice big vial of Bloodroot for myself."

"Bloodroot? That's-" Poppy began.

"Excruciating. Yes, I know. That was rather the point. Got home, poured it out and went to drink it... Then she appeared outside my house." He continued, pointing and smiling at Hermione, not, thanks to the Veritaserum compelling his honesty, disguising the look of affection in his eyes in the slightest. "Her, Bellatrix, and the Dark Lord. That was when, I think, I really realized that I couldn't live with things how they were -- but neither could I die leaving them like this. You see, her presence with me is for precisely what you heard. She was to be bred," he said matter-of-factly, observing the looks of revulsion appear on the assembled faces, "to be raped, by me, repeatedly... For years. And not one of the people there, not my parents, not even Hermione, as I later found out, doubted, even for a minute, that I would do it. They all just assumed, as I'm sure every one of you did, that I would have no issue with raping her, over and over... And when everyone you've ever met views you like that, views you as the kind of person that could happily do something so repugnant... It really throws into stark relief that everything you've done up to that point has been wrong."

A silence descended in the tent. He looked over at Hermione, and she smiled sadly back at him.

"D-does anyone else know of you're... You're change of heart?" Madam Pomfrey asked, looking around the room of faces.

"Whittle. My recently freed House Elf. She remains at the manor, playing the part of the dutiful slave, but she's not." He replied, looking up at her. "I freed her a few minutes before being reintroduced to Hermione, and she's been helping us ever since."

"When did you start calling her Hermione?" Pansy muttered rhetorically, referring to his prior habit of calling nearly everyone by their last names.

She didn't expect an answer, he assumed, given the hushed, almost entertained nature of her question... A question she actually directed at Lavender, though he knew was meant for him. Regardless of her intent, however, the question was asked, and the serum coursing through him forced him to answer.

He clenched his teeth and winced before inevitably losing the conflict against the powerful agent in his system. "Since I started falling in love with her." He immediately closed his eyes, and looked down toward his lap. He couldn't stand to look at any of them, even Hermione.

He, though not looking, could imagine the assembled people shifting uncomfortably at his admission -- even smirking at how foolish he was, but that imagine vanished as he heard Hermione.

"That's enough!" A firmness to her voice that made him start. "You've got your answers, now leave him be."

"I'm- I'm sorry. I- I didn't mean to..." Pansy began, stepping forward. Though her saw only her feet as he looked down, he saw her come to an immediate halt as Hermione wheeled on her.

"Wand." He heard Granger say, the firmness still in her voice, before back up and uttering an incantation, "Surgito."

He was immediately thrown back in his seat as he felt his veins run simultaneously searingly hot, and freezing cold. He threw his head back, uncontrollably, and saw a silver-white mass of vapour pour out from him, completely blinding him for a moment as Hermione pulled the serum from his body, purging it from his system.

"Ow, fuck, that hurts." He groaned, leaning forward.

"Well, at least he's still honest." Wood chuckled snatching a cup from the center of the table, before tapping his wand to the rim and muttering, "Aguamenti."

Taking the offered cup, he downed the contents in two large gulps.

"Sorry about that." Wood said, acting as though he spoke for all -- a sentiment that Draco honestly believed was true. "We just... Can't be too careful, you know?" He asked rhetorically.

"I said, it's fine." He replied, finally looking up at Hermione and smiling weakly at her. "It's," he paused, looking around at the assembled group, "I can't believe some of you are still alive." He nodded at Lavender specifically.

"Yeah... Got lucky." She replied, watching him as he stood up.

"Can't believe that you're part of all this." He said, looking at Pansy.

"Could say the same for your change of heart. Y-you were right." She began, slowly shaking her head, "It never even crossed my mind -- the notion that you wouldn't have..." She gestured to Hermione. "You were one of my best friends in school and- and I didn't even give you the benefit of the doubt. I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be." Draco replied, smiling sadly. "I wouldn't have either, knowing what I was like back then.

The conversations in the room picked up after that, mostly directed at Hermione, but as the throng moved to sit at the table, Draco widened his eyes at Pansy and then flicked his gaze toward Lavender and back, his expression one of happy confusion as to their apparent relationship.

She simply smiled and mouthed the words "Shut up" silently, her smile widening.

He returned the smile and turned to join the group at the table.

"Who else made it?" Hermione asked, genuine happiness and excitement in her voice.

"Not as many as we would have liked... But we're a good dozen, or so, strong." Hooch replied. "Here, anyway."

"Some familiar faces, others we've amassed from elsewhere. Um, Ernie, he's here," Lavender began, referring to Ernest Macmillan, as Pansy sat down beside her. "Yeah, they decided to try and spare some of the Pure Bloods, even if they were on the wrong side... But, well, they're regretting that decision now. Umm, who else? Angelina and Katie got out, they're not with us, they're with a different group. Um, Hannah, Hannah Abbott, she's here. So too is, Lee and Michael. Oh, Padma, she's with Angelina and Katie. Yeah, so, a few made it."

"Are you guys like the..." Hermione began.

"What, in charge?" Wood began, "I mean, kind of, yeah. Mainly, though we're the only ones that know that Pansy is, well, part of this. We try to keep her identity a secret, seeing as she's our inside woman in the W.I. Keeping her under wraps is pretty important." He continued "We run this group, but there are more groups scattered about. This is the largest, but that doesn't make us in charge... There is no real hierarchy, if I'm honest." 

"We should get you some clothes," Poppy began, standing up, "Then we'll arrange somewhere for you two to sleep."

"We can't stay here." Hermione immediately, stopping Poppy in her tracks. 

"What, why?" Lavender asked, glancing around the room.

"We have plans in motion at home- at Malfoy Manor. Any leads that turn up will turn up there, we need to get back." She explained.

"That is true, any leads about that book will arrive by owl, to my house." Draco confirmed, sitting forward.

"Is this about that book you're after, Draco? Is that really important?" Pansy quizzed, looking bemused.

"Yes." Hermione began. "Draco lied about the reasoning. That book, Secrets of the Darkest Art, covers the production of, among other things, horcruxes... The means of the Dark Lord's immortality. That's why he's forbidden that book, Pansy. Now, to my knowledge, he only has one horcrux left -- Nagini. If we destroy her, which is no easy feat, he should be mortal again... Unfortunately, seven months have passed since then. I need to check to see if he could have made more in that time."

"Is it really worth it?" Wood interjected, "I mean, why don't we just kill her, and then kill him. Even if he's immortal, it'll delay him and give us time to find any others."

"I did think of that, but back then I thought it was just us, Draco and me. I didn't want to show my hand too early, I wanted to have all the information I could before acting and, honestly, I still think that's the best way to go." She explained. "The moment we make our first strike, he'll put everything he has, which is the entire country, unless I'm mistaken, into finding us and wiping us out. At the moment we're an inconvenience, but after we attack, after we take out Nagini, we're a threat. I'd rather strike from a slightly less terrible position than we are currently in... I'd like to know as much as possible."

"Wait, does Irma have that book?" Lavender asked the room.

"No. I don't think so. She took a lot when we fled Hogwarts, but, that doesn't ring a bell." Rolanda replied. "I will check with her, but I doubt it."

"If she cleared out Hogwarts, then no, she wouldn't. I took the one from Hogwarts when Ron and Harry and I left... There wouldn't have been one for her to take." Hermione explained.

"Shit..." Wood muttered, before speaking up. "Fine, so you want to head back. That's fair enough, especially if you've got wheels turning there. We can give you a means to contact us, Lavender made some coins for-"

"Hermione knows. It was her idea, back at Hogwarts with the DA. I just copied it." Lavender smiled.

"Oh. Well, we can give you one of those each. Is there anything else you need?" Wood continued.

"Ummm, yes, actually." Hermione said, Draco throwing her a confused glance as he had come up empty. "Pansy, could you... This is awkward... Could you pretend to be dating Draco? You're a pure blood, you two were close in school, and Narcissa likes you. If they thought you two were a couple it would distract them from me, and give us a more believable reason for you to visit more frequently." She said, looking awkwardly between himself, Pansy, and Lavender. "I'm not going to lie, it would also be nice having you around more often -- especially seeing as you just pasted both Draco and I, in a two v one fight."

"I had the element of surprise on my side, don't sell yourself short." Pansy replied, though she couldn't hide the look of pride in her eyes.

"Regardless. You thrashed us." Draco said, agreeing with Hermione's assessment of the encounter.

Pansy looked across at Lavender, Lavender smiling and nodding as she did, before she looked back at both him and Hermione. "Sure. I can play that part. Say the right words, behave the right way. Not so different from what I do at the W.I." 

They spoke for several more hours. Hermione and himself explaining nearly everything that had happened, with a number of tactful omissions. They heard about what this particular group of the resistance, The Remnant, as they called themselves, had been up to. Mainly sewing discord, thanks in no small part to Lavender, between the Ministry, under Voldemort, and the Werewolf packs.

Hermione also explained, in heartbreaking detail, the MRC in Wales, and the sort of soul crushing propaganda and re-education they were subjected to. She described, as best she could recall, the defenses the MRC had, and it seemed as though the first seeds of a rescue mission were planted.

Eventually the conversation wound down, and Draco found himself heading back toward the exit of the camp, walking beside Hermione, Lavender, and Pansy, though Pansy was back in her mask now, to protect her identity from others in the camp.

"I'm sorry about asking you to, you know, it's just Narcissa is already starting to suspect there's something different going on between us than the expected. So having you play the part would... I just, I don't want to step on," Hermione stuttered, gesturing between Pansy and Lavender, "whatever this is- Are you- are you two a thing?"

Lavender chuckled and nodded, looking over at Pansy and smiling before looking back at Hermione. "Yeah, for about two months now."

"Three in two weeks." Pansy interjected.

"I've got to admit... I would never have pictured you two together, not in a million years." Hermione smiled.

"Same but... Well, I was tasked with hunting this group, the Remnant, down a few months ago when the W.I. got a lead. The lead, or the one I was assigned turned out to be right, for a change, but when I saw she was still alive, along with Wood, and Rolanda I... I couldn't do it. Then... One thing lead to another and..." Pansy explained, trailing off.

"Strange times make for strange bedfellows." Lavender smiled.

"Yeah, sometimes literally." Pansy smirked.

"Hey." Lavender chastised her, smiling.

"What? I'm proud that I'm the one that gets to take you to bed... Make your peace with it." Pansy chuckled, an odd sound given her, once again, distorted voice.

"Crying out loud." Lavender laughed, before turning back to see both him and Hermione chuckling.

"Lav... I thought you were dead. I thought I watched you die." Hermione said, smiling broadly, "T-to find that you're alive, and with someone that makes you happy, I... I couldn't be happier."

The chatted aimlessly for the few moments it took until they stepped back out into the colder exterior of the camp. The rain had let up, but it was still miserable. Pansy held Lavender tightly, before they shared another kiss, this one somewhat complicated by the mask Pansy was wearing. Lavender then stepped back, and looked at both him and Hermione.

"I'm so happy you're alive, Hermione, and Draco... I'm happy you're on our side." She handed them each a coin. "If you need to meet, alter your coin. If you need extraction... Break it. That's new." She smiled, looking at Hermione.

Hermione stepped forward, hugging her again, before she stepped back through the parting in the world, and the seam sealed, concealing the camp again.

"Right, let's get you back. Hopefully, in time for dinner." Pansy said, holding her hand out.

Hermione took it, and he took hers as he held his breath. He blinked, and opened his eyes in his room once more.

"I need to get going." Pansy said, smiling at them. "I'm glad this worked out the way it did. I-I'm proud of you... Draco."

"You too." He replied, moving forward and hugging her, sincerely, for the first time in a long time.

"Are you free tomorrow?" Hermione asked.

"No. I'm shifted in with the W.I. I'm afraid. Why?"

"Bellatrix is visiting. It will be... Uncomfortable. If you were there it would make it more bearable." She explained, shedding Pansy's coat and offering it back.

"Shit... Uh, no. I can't raising suspicion. Remember, you're not alone now, you two. If you need out, break your coins. I'll drop everything. Cover be damned, I'll get you out." She said, taking Hermione's hands in hers. "Right. I need to get going, and you two need to make your presence here known. Good luck. Be safe." She smiled, before collapsing in on herself and vanishing.

"That was not what I had planned for after breakfast." He said, looking from the spot where Pansy had just been, and across at Hermione.

"Well, if I recall, you didn't have a plan." She smiled, "And we did say we should look into trying to contact them... Mission accomplished."

He smiled. Seeing Pansy with Lavender had suddenly made everything in his own mind seem less ridiculous. He shook his head, returning himself to the present.

"Why don't you get dressed, as pointless as that seems now," he began, looking at the clock and seeing how late in the day it had become, "while I go tell Whittle we're back."

She nodded before turning and pulling open the wardrobe beside her. Meanwhile he moved toward the door and out into the corridor.

The remainder of the day passed quickly, nothing seeming to hold his attention. Dinner had been delicious, as it always was when Whittle cooked, but he couldn't focus on anything really, his mind was constantly forming all new concepts and ideas now that they were part of an actual resistance movement. He might actually be able to start working toward redeeming himself.

Later in the evening, when Whittle brought their customary tea, he and Hermione had filled her in on the day's happenings, the elf sharing in their excitement before needing to leave, her services being demanded by Lucius. The moment Whittle left, Hermione got up and retrieved a fresh nightdress from the wardrobe. She vanished into the bathroom and reappeared a few moments later, having gotten changed.

Looking at her, the nightdress was grey and sheer, far more sheer than he believed she was aware, though that belief was challenged when she reached into his wardrobe and pulled on his old Slytherin robe again, fastening it to cover herself. She then grabbed the outfit she had worn to dinner and put it back in her wardrobe. 

"I'm not having Whittle wash that because I wore it for like, no time at all." She explained, dropping back down on the couch.

What she did next took him completely by surprise. She span on the couch, leaning into the corner between the back and the arm, and put her feet up on Draco's lap, snatching up her book up and opening it as she did.

"What? You keep telling me not to sit on my feet. Here's my solution." She smiled, seeing him looking at her. 

"I didn't complain." He replied, taking up his cup and drinking from it.

Another few hours passed, them silently reading and drinking. He didn't know when he'd started, but the time he thought about turning in, he'd been absentmindedly rubbing her ankles for some time. His fingers tensed up and he stopped, seeing her look over the top of her book at him as he did. 

"Bed?" She asked, glancing across at the clock, wiggling her feet and toes, as if waking the up after their impromptu massage.

"Probably, yeah. No idea if Pansy, or someone else, will destroy the room in the morning, so, pays to be well rested." He replied, smiling jovially.

"Good idea." She said, closing her book, swinging her legs from his lap, placing her book on the coffee table, and getting up. "I'm already dressed, so I'll head the bathroom first. Give you chance to get sorted." 

He nodded, watching her heading to bathroom, trying to stop himself thinking about how she looked under the Slytherin robe that billowed behind her as she moved. The nightdress she'd chosen was stunning, and sheer enough that he'd been able to see more than a hint of what was beneath it. 

He shook his head, feeling his arousal growing a pace with the swelling between his legs. He clenched his eyes shut, forcing the images away before tidying the tray and grabbing a pair of black pajamas from the wardrobe. 

Pulling his clothes off and his pajamas on, he was still buttoning up his top when the door opened and she walked out. She was still wearing the robe, but it was open now, and he struggled to look her in the eye as he smiled and moved passed her to the bathroom.

Closing the door he rubbed the back of his neck as he moved over to the mirror. Placing both hands on the sink, kneading the back of his neck one last time before doing so, he looked at his reflection.

"Maybe there's some hope for you." He muttered to himself. "These people, this Remnant..." He trailed off, simply looking at himself.

He didn't like who he saw... But he thought that one day, maybe, he might.

Snapping himself out of it, he ran the basin and washed his face, before cleaning his teeth and using the facilities. 

Stepping out into the bedroom again, swiping the light in the bathroom out, he closed the door. Hermione was already in bed, his robe laying crumpled on the ground. She wasn't looking at him, she was laying on her side, facing where he would soon be, once he too climbed in to bed. Bringing his wand up, he dimmed and then extinguished the lights in the room, navigating his way in the darkness on muscle memory alone.

Climbing into bed, he leaned back on the pillow, gazing up at the darkness that obfuscated the ceiling above. He felt her shift beside him, turning his head to see her vague outline as his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark.

"So..." She said softly, her words gentle and practically soothing to him. "Pansy and Lavender." She said, chuckling ever so slightly as she shifted her hand onto his chest, as it had been last night when she slept.

"Yeah. Not two people I would have ever put together." He replied, looking back up at the ceiling, honestly happy that Pansy had, not only found someone, but had also turned coat as he had.

"Yeah, I know... But, guess it just goes to show..." She said, her statement trailing off.

"Show what?"

"...That we never really get a choice." 

He turned to look at her again, her hand moving to the side of his face as she leaned in, kissing him, shifting her body closer as she teased his lips with her tongue.

He lost his senses and instantly deepened their kiss, his hand sliding up to run up her side, the grey silk nightdress being the only thing separating his hand from her.

The kiss lasted for a blissful period before she pulled away, barely, just enough to break their kiss. Her eyes remained locked on his, his vision having adjusted enough to make her out entirely, and her hand remained on the side of his face, sliding up to run her fingers through his hair.

The last of his self restraint, what tiny fraction of it remained, was rapidly being pulverised by the exigent sense of need and want rattling around in his chest, but still, it managed to force once last string of words from his mouth, one last thing before it was ground to dust.

"Are- are you sure about this?" He stammered.


	9. Chapter 9

[[[ Thank you for all the comments, and I do endeavour to reply to each one. I really appreciate them, and it's really motivating to hear from people who are enjoying this.

I'm going to be a bit busy the coming week, so there may be a delay until the next chapter. 

I hope you enjoy this part ;) ]]]

__________

**Part Nine.**

She looked across at him, seeing him in so many shades of grey, the lack of light in the room obscuring all colour. Though, as she looked at him, with his white hair and slate grey eyes, the lack of colour didn't really detract from the moment.

"Are- are you sure about this?" She heard him ask, his voice seeming to betray the same nerves she felt.

She smiled back at him, her skin relishing the touch of his hand on her waist. "I- I'm done fighting this." She said softly. "I don't," she swallowed, her mouth dry, "I don't even know why I started." She slid her hand down, taking a hold of his shoulder.

She didn't know what to do. Every dream she'd had, had had him being the one to initiate things. He'd been the one, in her dreams, to lose himself, to have his restraint fail. He'd been the one to... To take her. She didn't know what to do. She was counting on his past experiences to lead the way, but she had to put him in the lead first.

"Probably because I was a-" he began.

"Shut up, Draco." She interrupted, pressing her lips to his.

As she did, she did the only thing she could think of. She put him in the position he'd been in in all of her dreams, hoping that that would somehow help. She held his shoulder and pulled at him, while simultaneously rolling on to her back. He moved with her, his hand kneading her waist as he rolled to have his upper body positioned above her while his lower half was laid beside.

She looked up at him, a slight beam of pale diffused light from a gap in the curtains revealing the look of hunger in his eyes that was familiar to her, though she hadn't seen it in reality before. The real version being far more brilliantly intimidating than she had imagined.

She moved her hand from his shoulder, swallowing her nerves away again, only for them to claw back up her throat instantly, and gently placed her hand on his, on her waist. She swallowed again, her breath coming in shuddering, ragged, shakes, and guided his hand up from her waist until it cupped one of her breasts, her arching her back to press herself up into his palm.

She blinked, and the moment her eyes opened again he leaned down, nestling his face between her right shoulder and neck.

Every breath she took was deep, her mouth hanging agape as he kissed and nuzzled at her neck, his hand rolling and kneading her breast in his grasp. Every touch, every application of pressure, each tickle of breath on skin sending exponential sparks of pleasure through her. 

She was done. 

She was lost to it. The days of indecision, of doubt, of guilt... They were gone now. She'd taken too long, too long, to accept how she'd felt about Ronald, and she had no intention of making that mistake again. A part of her, a stern voice in the back of her mind, protested that this entire situation with Draco had come about in less than a week, but she silenced it, focusing again on the gentle touch of his lips to her neck.

She reached down with her left hand, its options limited, being essentially sandwiched between them, though it had the range of movement to do what she needed. She took his wrist, pulling his hand free from her breast, while her right hand moved to the back of his head, gently holding him in place to avoid any misconceptions on his part. As his hand left her, so too did hers leave his wrist, instead grabbing the top of her nightdress and pulling it down, before arching her back again, pressing the skin of her breast into his palm. She felt a slight shudder pass through him, the same shudder of excitement that rolled through her as she felt his hand knead her flesh, with no clothing between them.

Every touch, every kiss fed into the growing sense of need in the pit of stomach, and to the ever increasing wetness she felt between her legs. The way her body was reacting, the way she was behaving, caused a pang of embarrassment to stab through her, but the moment she felt Draco's hand slide from her breast, down onto her stomach, it fizzled out and was replaced by fear.

Her heart rate spiked, she could feel the pounding in her chest as his hand slid ever downward. She wasn't about to be cowered by it though. She wanted this. She'd gone from wanting it, to being desperate for it, and though her nerves remained, she still found her legs seeming to open by themselves as she walked her nightdress up.

He'd touched her before, she knew, the night she'd fallen under the WitchBane, but this was totally different. The desire she felt was real this time, not the artificial requirement that the WitchBane had instilled in her, and as such the moment his fingers touched her, even through the underwear she was wearing, it caused a stab of pleasure that pushed her over.

The pulsing orb of searing purple light that had began gradually forming in her stomach was cleaved open as she came. A wall of water, tonnes of it, purple and electric, smashed into her as she bit her lip and arched her back. Her left hand bunched up the bedsheet beneath her as her right gripped his shoulder, her nails digging in. That was it, that was all she had time to do before the wave of her orgasm completely overwhelmed her mind, sending her adrift on an impossibly calm sea of purples and blues.

She could have stayed there forever, but Draco hadn't stopped. She could still feel him, kissing and touching her. The sea rapidly draining, receding back but growing again.

"Please, Draco." Was all she could say, her capacity to string together a sentence seemingly water logged. So instead she just pawed at him.

She pulled at his shoulder, while her left hand tried to slide beneath him, as if to scoop him up and pull him fully on top of her.

He did the opposite. He pulled back, her senses rapidly returning as she let out a protest, only to see him pulling his top off over his head. She couldn't imagine what her expression looked like, and she could only hope it didn't look as awestruck and needy as she felt. She'd seen him topless before, and sure he looked good, but that was different... The circumstances were different.

She looked at him, desperate to commit the image to memory. He wasn't particularly fit or muscular, he was more slim... Almost gaunt in places. His skin wasn't flawless, though neither was hers. His chest, arms, and stomach bore about a dozen faint scars from a vicious spell Harry had used on him, though he hadn't known what it would do. And on his arm, highlighted by the beam of moonlight from the window, was the Dark Mark. Still, even with his imperfections, some of which were steeped in darkness... She wanted him.

She sat bolt upright, hauling her own nightdress off and chucking it clear of the bed before practically throwing herself at him. Both her hands flew to the sides of his face as she kissed him again, deeply, pressing herself completely onto him, the skin of her chest in full contact with his. His hands responded. His right moving behind her head, his fingers weaving through her hair as they had done in her dreams, as his left went to her side, the sensation of him teasing the side of her ribs, a sensation that would normally tickle her, instead just fuelled the blistering fire she felt. She would never, could never behave like this were it not for the need of him, the need of another orgasm, pushing her on. She was a powerless in regard to her actions as if he had under the curse that everyone suspected he had. She wouldn't stop, even if she thought she could.

Kissing her back, she felt Draco pitch forward, her position, kneeling on the mattress as he was, making it impossible for her to support both their weight as the angle increased. She collapsed backward on to the mattress, managing to unfurl her legs from beneath her, one now being either side of him. She moaned softly as his lips left hers.

"You're amazing." He whispered as he kissed down, across her neck, and onto her chest, before dragging his tongue across the sensitive crown of her breast. The bolt of pleasure that shot through her, carved another moan free, it escaping her lips in a shuddering exhale as her right hand slipped to the back of his head, holding him there as he took her into his mouth. 

The laps and flicks of his tongue. The occasional rolling of her nipple across tongue and tooth. The weight and feel of him on top of her, pinning her to the bed had her helpless, powerless against the indefatigable sense of lust pushing everything else from her mind.

She opened her mouth to plead, to beg him to do what they both knew this was leading to... But she couldn't.

She tried again, but all that came out was another pathetic, almost rapturous, whimper. She couldn't believe such sounds were being pulled from her by Draco Malfoy of all people, but, and she never considered herself as someone motivated by pride, or hampered by pride, she couldn't bring herself to beg him, or to plead. She just couldn't.

Instead, drawing on what remained of her willpower, she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him up, until his eyes locked with hers. She didn't know how she looked, how a base desire saturating her eyes must have changed her, but the moment their eyes met, he batted her hands away and pressed his lips to hers. She then felt as his right hand went down, his left supporting his weight, to begin pushing his bottoms down, his legs shifting as he kicked them free.

His lips left hers as her pulled himself back, sitting up. She looked at him, her eyes scanning down and her breath catching as she saw him, for the first time, in the height of the moment. She didn't know what average was, for a guy, nor did she care. She didn't care how big he was, she only cared that what she saw punched straight to her core. She reached down and roughly shoved her thumbs under the waist band of her underwear, pushing them down.

No matter her impatience, it seemed she still acted too slowly for him, and Draco grabbed her underwear and dragged them roughly off, throwing them blindingly off the bed before leaning back down, kissing her, his tongue driving passed her lips to tease her palate.

She felt him shift, her heart beating faster and harder before seeming to pause, stopping for the briefest moment, as she felt his cock touch her the first time. It was laying on her as he kissed her, her feeling it's size, something better felt than seen, as it rested on her abdomen, twitching in time with his pulse. He kissed her, though whereas before she would melt into it, her entire mind focusing on the kiss and the sensation of it, this time her mind was creating and destroying countless fantasies, imaginings of what he would feel like inside her, about how she could possibly take it inside her. She had a firm grasp of biology, she was a bright witch, but it seemed almost inconceivable that he would be able to fit... Though she desperately wanted him to try.

He broke their kiss, lifting himself up and looking into her eyes.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, her seeing the look in his eyes, a sight that looked almost like anger, though she knew it wasn't, melt away to be momentarily replaced with concern.

Her mouth was agape, her breathing with laboured and shaking, and all she could do was nod frantically as she arched her back, and rolled her hips, trying to get him closer to her.

His left hand shifted, supporting his weight, while his right moved to down. She followed it, looking down her body, her breasts shifting with each heavy breath, to see him take a hold of himself. He rolled his hips back, the tip of his circumcised penis pulling across her skin. She shifted beneath him, pulling herself up, or more accurately across the bed as they were now laying width ways across it.

Her breath caught as Draco pressed himself onto her, the feeling of his cock on her clawing at the most primal parts of her mind. He shifted up, the tip brushing against her clit, causing her to gasp and buck beneath him.

She wouldn't beg.

He shifted down, once again pulling the tip of himself across her clit before resting again, threatening at any second to press into her... But not.

She wouldn't beg. She refused to. She bit her tongue and looked at him, though she had no doubt that her eyes screamed her desperation.

She wouldn't beg!

She jerked her hips forward, the tip of him sinking into her. Her eyes closed as she let out a quiet, whimpering moan.

She had readied herself for pain. She knew it wasn't a certain thing, the pain when losing your virginity. She knew, from stories, that some girls felt it and some girls didn't. She suspected that care, consideration, and a slow pace would likely lessen the chances of it hurting, but she also knew that this moment was far too charged to rely on that. The moment she had committed to this, back at the Remnant's camp, after seeing Pansy and Lavender together, and after hearing Draco say what he'd said, she'd known that there might be pain, and she'd readied herself for it. It didn't matter if it hurt, as it wouldn't hurt forever, and it would be worth it. She'd let fear, she'd let her nerves hold her back in the passed, with Ronald. She'd wasted time, so much time, by not just taking what she knew she wanted... She wasn't going to do that again. The pain, if it happened, would be worth it.

Her hands moved to his arms, his right now moving to once again support his weight as he remained, unmoving, with just the tip of himself inside her. She gripped his arms, kneading his flesh as she looked up into his eyes.

He shifted his hips forward pressing another inch into her, her lungs seeming to catch, to snag on something as she felt him slide inside her, forcing her open, stretching her to accommodate him. She wanted to close her eyes again, to just swim in the sensation, but she didn't. She kept staring right into his, her mouth agape, drawing shuddering breaths whenever her body allowed her, as he continued to slowly, but inexorably drive inch after inch after inch after inch into her. The look in his eyes getting more dangerous, more predatory... More deliciously frightening as he did.

There was no pain, just a sense of something excitingly alien. Another person was forcing their way inside her, stretching her body to accept him, and her body not only accepted, but cried out in blissful waves of pleasure as he did. It was incredible.

He stopped moving as she felt his pelvis press firmly onto hers as he bottomed out, his entire length now buried inside her. She couldn't believe it, she couldn't believe how incredible it felt. She'd seen his cock, laying on her just moments ago, and it looked impossible for her to accommodate, but she was. He had pressed a frightening amount of himself inside her, and all she felt was pleasure and an indescribable sense of being full.

Her right hand slid up his arm to his shoulder and pulled him down, pulling his mouth to hers. Their lips met, and as he pressed his tongue passed hers, her drew his hips back before sliding them forward again. She moaned out, the sound muted, reverberating into Draco as they kissed.

Seemingly emboldened, he pulled back and drove himself into her again. Then again. Then again. Each time slow and deliberate, making sure she felt every inch as it slid through her.

She couldn't carry on. She needed to breath!

She pulled her mouth free, moaning aloud, shame as to how she sounded only seeming to heighten the concentration of the pleasure she felt, instead of diluting it. She felt his lips on her neck, another quaking moan escaping her, and he picked up his pace -- drawing out and pressing in faster and harder than he had previously.

Her hands went to his back, holding him there. She could feel the old scars there, along with the rhythmic shifts in the muscles there as he took her.

Waves of that rapturous delight washed through her with each thrust before receding back to the ever growing mass she could feel threatening to claim her senses again. 

Another thrust, and another, and another. She wasn't breathing anymore, she was panting. Her fingers were gripping his back, and though her nails were cut back, she suspected she might be hurting him as each time she would grip harder, or drag her fingers across him as she could not help but do, he would drive into her harder or deeper, as if he was, subconsciously, trying to hurt her back... But all that did was add more fuel to the fire, and the vicious, fantastic cycle of pleasure only increased.

"Draco!" She gasped as he slammed his hips forward, and another orgasm smashed her senses loose, tearing them free of her mind in a nova of purple bliss, only for them to be hauled back to fuel the next when he didn't stop. "Draco... Fuck." She moaned, her words filling the room as she threw her head back as far as the mattress allowed.

His lips kissing at random places up the side of her neck, ranging from her shoulder, to just below her ear, she said his name again. She had to speak, she had to say something, but the only word she could focus on was his name... The name of the person pushing her to heights she'd never experienced before. His hand moved from the bed, his weight now half supported by her, and ran through her hair, gripping it tightly as he began slamming his cock into her even harder than before. The sound of his skin clapping to hers, her hips rocking back to meet his thrusts, filling her ears, punctuated by his grunts and the weight of his breaths.

"'Mione, I..." He stammered, his grip on her hair tightening, causing a flare of pain to strike through her, though it only fed the building feeling inside.

"Oh fuuuuck!" She moaned aloud, praying that the walls and floor would dampen the noise, as he clapped forward, spearing into her, carving another shattering orgasm loose. The mass of pressure, of blue, of purple, of white, that was boiling inside her, exploding out to consume her once again.

Her legs spasmed before leaving the bed and wrapping around him, denying him from pulling free, not that he was trying to.

Her hands on his back, she could feel his muscles there tightening and loosening, driving him as he hammered into her. All she could feel, all she could think about was him stretching her open and forcing himself to her deepest point, over and over. She was here, and nowhere else and nothing else mattered.

"D- don't hold back." She panted, running her fingers down his spine, feeling him tighten under her touch. He'd stopped kissing her, instead she could hear, albeit barely, the sound of him gritting and grinding his teeth, like he was fighting something off. "Don't hold back."

She felt his entire body tighten. Every muscle in his back seizing up as she jerked himself forward, forcing himself as deep as he could possibly go Feeling him swell inside her, her own orgasm threatening to shove her into oblivion once again, he gripped her hair tightly and tried to drive deeper, though it was impossible.

"'Mione." He grunted as she felt the first rope of his cum land inside her, hot and heavy, the sensation of it causing her to grip him tightly, her arms and legs locking him in place as another orgasm, one that seemed to dwarf all those before, tore her free of her body. She felt nothing except him inside her, and the ever increasing amount of heat he was spilling into her. He pressed forward again, as if he was desperate to force his entire being into her, and again as another load of him fell inside her, and another, each one pushing her own orgasm on further.

Her feet knotted painfully as her muscles contracted, riding her bliss out, and by the time her senses returned, he had collapsed on top of her. His breathing heavy and exhausted.

"Ow, oww ow, feet, feet." She gasped, gritting her teeth as she tried to force her toes to loosen, her legs still locked around his waist, keeping him inside her.

He chuckled, and she turned to kiss his neck, running her middle finger down the length of his spine, feeling his muscles tense as she did. She was tired... So tired. She unwrapped her legs from around him, and he slowly rolled off to drop heavily on the bed beside her.

"No..." She protested weakly as she felt him slip from inside her. "Why'd you do that?" She petulantly swatted sideways, the back of her hand slapping his stomach. "That was-" she panted, "that was in there perfectly and then you had to ruin it."

"Sorry to be such a disappointment." He chuckled back, earning him another weak, backhanded slap.

She moved over, rolling on to her side, laying her hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder, bathing in the aftermath of her first.

"Thank you." He said weakly, her chuckling slightly.

"Yeah, it- it was completely selfless on my part." She laughed. "You don't have to thank me for... For that."

He stroked her hair, "No. Thank you for... For giving me a chance to- to become a better person. I'd be dead if it weren't for you, but instead I'm... Well..." He turned and kissed her forehead.

She smiled, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

"As comfortable as this is... Should we maybe get back in bed properly?" He asked, gesturing to their current position of laying across the bed, as opposed to up it.

"Probably... Yeah." She replied, as she slowly lifted herself up and followed him as he dropped down onto the bed, his head on his pillow.

She fell back down in the exact same embrace she had just left, breathing in his scent and the smell of the sweat on him.

Reaching back, she fumbled under her pillow, looking for her wand, not wanting to forget, only for Draco to roll slightly in her direction, his wand in hand.

"I got it." He smiled before playing the wand over her stomach. He motioned a circle over her, that covered broadly where her womb would be, and then, from top to bottom, bisected the circle before falling back on his back, and pulling her into his arms again.

She felt the wash of magic fall through her, leaving her feeling clean but no less full. The spell would neutralise everything, but not remove a thing.

"I didn't think they taught guys that spell?" She asked, remembering back to the purely female class she had had to attend at Hogwarts to learn that particular Contraceptive Charm.

"They didn't. Pansy taught me it." He replied.

She smiled, nodding. "Yeah, that makes sense."

She reached up, taking her hand from his chest to hold his chin and angle his face toward hers. She looked into his eyes, seeing the same tiredness and affection in them that she felt, and she kissed him. Pressing her tongue passed his lips, as he did to her, she held the kiss for seconds before falling back onto his shoulder.

"Goodnight, Draco." She muttered, her hand now back on his chest, hugging him tightly as he kissed the top of her head.

"Goodnight Hermione."


	10. Chapter 10

[[[ Big ol' delay, my bad.

Went off the grid for a bit, camping, and then it's just been a bit of a chore finding time to write since then.

Anyway, here we go. Hope you enjoy. ]]]

__________

**Part Ten.**

She woke up before him, and just laid there looking at him sleep. Her mood was different from the night before. She was calmer, more level. A part of her feared, last night as she sat with her feet up on him, reading, that she would wake up and regret what she was going to do... But she didn't. Not in the slightest. 

She smiled.

Slowly, careful not to wake him, she rolled to the very edge of the bed before sliding her legs out and sitting up. She looked down at herself, still naked from the night before. She felt the same. She'd expected to feel different. She expected to feel more mature, maybe... More womanly. But she didn't, and she didn't know if she was disappointed or relieved by that.

She went to get up but couldn't, instead just sitting and thinking. Taking the time to sort through and organise the jumble of thoughts and conflicting emotions that had begun to bog down her mind. She played the events of last night over in her head, feeling her body react even as she was soul searching for any regret, and finding none. Looking back at Draco, asleep, she could easily wake him up and jump right back into where they left off, a thought she had to suppress, especially given their scheduled visitor.

Looking back at the wardrobe ahead of her and forcing the memories and designs down, she could not help but have them replaced with the ones she had had of Ronald during her dreams at Hogwarts, the similarities drawing them to the surface of her mind. As the thoughts of Ron appeared, so too did the guilt, as well as her no longer feeling comfortable being naked around Draco, knowing he could wake up at any minute.

Looking around for her nightdress, she found it crumpled a few feet away so, retrieving her wand from beneath her pillow, she brought the nightdress over and pulled it on. She'd forgotten how sheer it was, despite that being the exact reason she'd picked it out of the wardrobe the night before, so she grabbed Draco's old robe from beside her feet and pulled it on over top.

She did feel guilty. She could try and suppress it, but she knew that was only a minor reprieve. She'd need to reconcile with it, with her guilt, and with what she still saw as a betrayal.

She wished she could talk to him, to Ron. To explain, to... To seek his blessing, perhaps. She just wanted to know that he didn't hate her for what she'd done, for how she felt, and she wanted him to know that she still loved him and always would.

All those things were impossible, of course, and she knew that. The ache for it still persisted however.

"Are you okay?" She heard him say, her starting at the sudden noise. Had she woken him? How long had he been awake?

She twisted, looking back at him, unable to not smile as the memories of the night before resurfaced, albeit briefly. "Yeah." The smile was sad.

He sat up on his elbows before locking her with a sincere gaze. "Ron?" He said simply, seeing the look in her eyes, and causing her to wonder if she was really so easy to read.

"Sorry." She began, chuckling sadly. "I'm sure that's the last thing you wanted -- the girl you just slept with to be thinking about another guy."

He smiled warmly at her, shaking his head slightly. "How could you not? You wanted him to be your first, and that future was stolen from you, from him... How could you not think about him? I-"

"I don't," she interrupted, "I don't regret what happened last night, Draco." She said, fixing him with a sincere stare, "Not at all. Believe that. I just..." Her voice trailer off, not really sure what to say, instead just choosing to smile at him.

He nodded slowly, sitting up, the duvet falling into his lap and leaving his chest exposed, the faint scars still attracting her eyes to trace them. "I understand, you don't have to apologize for still caring. Your capacity to care is part of what makes you so... Brilliant. And, look, I swear, we'll get that fucking snake, Hermione." He said, his expression becoming more serious.

She nodded, smiling at him as he turned around to get out of bed, stopping to retrieve his pajama bottoms from the floor. It was then, when she saw his back, or more accurately the, in some cases quite red, scratches she had put there the night before, that her expression fell.

"Oh my god. Draco. Your back!" She started, feeling guilty as she turned back on to the bed and went to move over to him.

He looked over his shoulder at her. He couldn't see the scratches, not without a mirror, but the amused smile on his face led her to believe that he knew precisely what she'd done.

"I'm so sorry, I-"

"Don't be," he interrupted, pulling up his bottoms and getting to his feet, "I was rather thinking about starting a collection."

The audacity of his words was a blow to her chest that knocked a laugh free. But the implication of his words woke something in her that she'd only just, moments ago, curbed and put to sleep.

"Oh really?!" She laughed, smiling at him as he moved around the bottom of the bed, smiling and shrugging.

"What? I mean, as far as collections go, these rank up there as the most enjoyable to attain." He smiled at her, his eyes loaded with intent, but also sincere affection.

"J-just sort yourself out." She laughed, backhanding the air in his direction.

He turned toward the bathroom before looking back at her, smiling, and then heading in. She sighed amusedly as the door clicked closed, before sitting cross-legged on the bed thinking about how drastically her life had changed over a single week. A boy she'd hated, loathed entirely in fact, had become someone that she had just willingly, eagerly, taken to bed. She'd gone from lamenting and living in darkness every waking moment, and having nightmares every night, to being... Happy, almost. A future that had looked so bleak now seemed hopeful. She had a purpose again, and she had friends, both old and new, to aid her.

Even the world had changed, at least her pocket of it. It had shifted from a place of darkness and dismay, a place ruled over entirely by Lord Voldemort, to a place where hope was taking root. There were people, survivors, still fighting against him, and their numbers grew, sometimes bolstered by those from Voldemort's own ranks. Pansy Parkinson, an Inquisitor, working for the resistance right under the Ministry's nose, and Draco Malfoy, a once blood supremacist and Death Eater, now a turncoat and her... Lover?

Was that what he was? Was that what they were? Lovers, or was there more to it than that?

She'd heard what he'd said, about him falling in love with her, and he'd obviously meant it, how could he not? He'd been under the effects of veritaserum so he couldn't have been lying. He hadn't told her though, not to her face, and an admission under duress... Does that really count, even if it was true?

Did she want him to love her? Did she love hi-

She shook her heard, blinking hard to suppress her spiralled thoughts and return to the moment.

"Get a grip, Granger." She whispered, chastising herself. "You're not some doe-eyed school girl, and this isn't the time." She continued, her voice so quiet, audible only to herself as she swung her legs off of the bed and stood up.

Moving around the bed, having gotten off on the far side, on Draco's side, she headed for the wardrobes to pick out an outfit for the day. Something that was attractive, as that was, as far as Bellatrix was concerned, her purpose here, but muted enough so that she wouldn't draw attention, and that Bellatrix might focus on other things rather than being drawn to her. Not an easy line to toe, given the clothing options Whittle had got her.

Her side of the bed. Draco's side of the bed. By Merlin, she was acting as though they were a couple.

She looked through her wardrobe, pushing outfits aside in the rail as the browsed. She'd been wrong before, when she'd thought about how nothing had changed since last night. Something had changed. Whenever Draco was in her thoughts she thought about him differently, though not in any way that she could label.

She shook her head, dislodging the thoughts again, before settling on an outfit. She settled on something safe, a set of deep blue black jeans, and a cream and black horizontally striped jumper, though she decided that, when she finally put it on, she would likely half roll the sleeves, putting her Mudblood scar on display... She loathed it, but having it already on display would likely stop Bellatrix from making her display it later.

Hearing the bathroom door open she turned to see Draco, still wet from his shower, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist, step out, scratching the back of his head. A heat immediately flushed through her as she couldn't stop her body from reacting to what she saw. It would have been amusing, if it wasn't so inconvenient and exciting.

There was a time, back at Hogwarts, where she'd thought he looked like a sniveling ferret, and she couldn't understand how anyone found him attractive. But now, now she realised it had been his personality that had coloured her perception of him, and that now he had changed for the better, it was a struggle to take her eyes off of him.

"I left it running," He began, pulling his shoulders back, and though she didn't hear the click of his vertebrae, she knew that it must have happened given the light sigh that escaped him, "the shower."

"Thanks." She replied, hearing the hissing drum of the shower striking the empty bath.

Seeing him like this, and the sudden flush that had happened to her in response, made her shed his old robe from her shoulders -- almost out of a sense of fair play. She could see nearly all of him, it would be unfair to keep herself covered. She then walked passed him, his eyes following her as she did, wearing only the sheerest of nightdresses.

Stepping in, she closed the door and leaned back on it briefly before shedding the nightdress and showering.

With the water cascading down her, untying every knot in every muscle, the subsequent flush of endorphins had her mind soaking in the memories of last night. More than once she had to catch herself as her hands ventured toward, or lingered on, certain places, but finally, rinsing the shampoo from her hair, she cut the stream of water and stepped out. For a moment she thought she would need to call for a towel again, but there, folded and waiting for her, was one that Draco had already prepared within easy arms reach.

Snatching and wrapping it around her, and then stepped out into the bedroom again. Draco was dressed now, in unusual garb for him. A pair of dark grey jeans and a black turtle neck. He still looked good, it was just unusual for him to wear anything but smart button up shirts and the like. He looked at her, and she saw as his eyes scanned her up and down, her struggling to suppress a smile of pride as she saw another hungry, predatory flare briefly appear in his eyes.

"Whittle's been," he began, clearing his throat and trying to look more calm and ordinary, "few seconds ago. Breakfast is nearly done."

"Ah, good. I'm starving." She replied moving toward the clothes she had left folded on the bed.

She went to pick them up but didn't, instead swallowing hard and instead turning around. She'd do what flashed into her mind, but she couldn't do it as brazenly as her subconscious had dreamed.

She dropped the towel, standing completely naked in front of him, albeit facing away. She then set about pulling on her outfit. First her underwear and bra, each time careful as to how she moved to retain some semblance of modesty, then her jeans and socks, and then finally the jumper, which she half rolled the sleeves of. She went to turn around but stopped when she felt him brush her hair aside, a bolt of excitement striking down her spine as his fingers lightly touched her skin. She inhaled, somewhat shakily, and went to speak, but Draco beat her to it.

"Your label was showing." He said softly, interrupting her, as she felt him slowly tuck the jumper's label back down in the collar.

"Th- thank you." She replied turning as she sensed him move back.

"My pleasure. Aer Calidus." He said offering his wand to her, a stream of warm air erupting from the tip at his command.

Taking the wand and then the brush he offered soon after, she dried and brushed her hair before returning his wand and grabbing her own. She pointed the wand toward her hair, intending to style it, but stopped when she heard him speak.

"Don't do that for my benefit." He said, her responding with a quizzical glance. "I mean, if you want to, go ahead. It's your hair, I'm not going to tell you what to do. But if you're going for a style that you think I like, so as to play along with the whole act... You look great with wild hair."

"I was. Going for the whole look you like thing, I mean." She replied. "For the sake of the act." She added, lying.

"Then, as you are. But, obviously, again, you do what you want. I- I can happily act that I told you to do, or to look, however you want. You don't need to-"

"I get it, Draco." She smiled, finding it endearing how much he felt like he had to constantly remind her that he didn't want to be controlling. She looked down at the wand in her hand before moving to stuff it under the mattress. "Given our guest today, best I don't take any chances."

"Give it here." He said, holding his hand out. "If anyone asks why I have two wands, I'll just come up with some bullshit about being disarmed in the past, and staying on the side of caution. Not that it will come up. I doubt anyone is going to pat me down."

She handed him her wand, but couldn't help but think that she didn't trust Bellatrix to keep her hands to herself. That woman definitely had an unhealthy attachment to him, her own nephew. It wouldn't surprise her if she became quite handsy with Draco if given the chance. She had no concrete reason for thinking so, but just something about the way she looked at him, and her willingness to source him a, well, a breeding slave, isn't exactly normal behaviour for an aunt. Despite her thoughts on the subject, she chose not to speak on the matter, instead trusting his intuition and moving toward the door.

Moving down toward the kitchen, she walked in just ahead of Draco, and moved to take her customary seat at the table, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and pancakes permeating the air.

"So, any news on when Bellatrix is getting here? That was today, I believe." Draco asked after a few minutes, a pancake or two, and half a mug of coffee.

"Mid morning. But then, with Bellatrix, who knows?" Lucius replied, looking over the top of his newspaper, before returning to whatever article he was reading.

The rest of breakfasts passed swiftly. From there they returned to Draco's room, whereafter they cleaned their teeth and then returned downstairs to waste time before Bellatrix's arrival.

Sitting on the couch, a novel in her lap, she looked across at Draco when he spoke, the living room deserted with their exception.

"Hermione?" He began, her name a question. "Do you want me to put you under? I'm not assuming anything, or anything, but... Well, Bellatrix can be a handful."

She sat for a minute, thinking. "I don't know," she began, then noticed Whittle walk passed the door to the living room. "Whittle."

"Y-y-yes, Miss Granger." Whittle relied, stepping in after looking around for Draco's parents.

"Bellatrix. She, uh, she likely treats you like dirt." She began, seeing Whittle nod, a pang of anger flaring within her at how mistreated Whittle must be, followed by a sense of admiration and gratitude that she stays in this situation for her and Draco's sake... She doubted she'd be in as stable as state of mind without Whittle to talk to. "How bad is it? Should I, well, should I go under the Imperius Curse for her visit?"

"That is difficult, Miss. W-Whittle would, were it herself, opt to be under the curse, Miss. Mrs Lestrange can-n be quite terrible. But circumstances can lessen that noticeably, and she can be nearly bearable on occasion. Whittle would opt to be under the Imperius Curse, yes. Especially if you trust Master M-Malfoy to lift the curse if it is not needed?"

"Yes, I trust him." She responded immediately, somewhat surprised by the fact she didn't even need to think on it.

"Then Whittle would, if she was you, stay on the side of caution, and be placed under the curse... Just in case."

Hermione nodded, unable to find fault with what Whittle was saying, and finding solace in the fact that it was similar to what she herself had been thinking. "Yeah," she began, looking back toward Draco, "Yeah, put me under when she gets here."

"Okay, but I'll lift it again if she's, well, not as terrible as she can be." He said, getting up, "I'll be back in a bit." He added before disappearing out of the room, her nodding as he did.

Watching him leave she turned back to look at Whittle who was still there.

"How is Miss Granger?" She asked, her large eyes wide and friendly.

"Good, yeah." Hermione replied, smiling. She then lowered her voice before continuing. "Seeing some of my old friends yesterday was... Well, it was amazing. Plus, Pansy being on our side was not something I expected, but am very happy for... Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Still got to be careful, of course, but."

"M-miss Granger seems different today. It's nice to see Miss Granger happy." Whittle smiled.

Was it that obvious?

"What do you mean different?" She asked.

"Whittle isn't quite sure. Miss Granger just seems more confident, more comfortable, especially around Master Malfoy. Nothing Miss Granger should worry about, nothing that could reveal her deception... Just... Something." She tried to explain, before simply shrugging, smiling, and heading for the door to continue her work.

"Well. You were right. Whittle. About... Draco and... Draco and me." She said, shifting uneasily as Whittle's shoulders lifted slightly and she looked back over her shoulder.

"Of course, Miss." She smiled, before disappearing out and down the corridor.

Draco reappeared a few moments later, walking in and dropping down onto the couch. "Got a letter back from Hogwarts and Borgin & Burkes." He said, her immediately looking across at him, her unease vanishing. "Borgin &, Burkes said they don't have it... Though, if they did, I doubt they'd admit it, knowing what we know now. Hogwarts do have a copy, but informed me that the book is forbidden, and not available for inspection, lending, or anything. So, unless we're going to break in to Hogwarts and steal it, I doubt we'll be getting anything from them."

She immediately began thinking about ways to do exactly that before her mind snagged on something. "Wait... Who's the headmaster of Hogwarts now?"

"Headmistress," Draco corrected, "Though it's sort of a duumvirate. Alecto Carrow is officially the Headmistress, though in practice, at least from what I've heard, it's sort of a fifty fifty split between her and her brother, Amycus. She got the official position as, frankly, she's just smarter than him... Not that that's saying much. Holding that position is less about power or skill, like it used to be, and more about how much you hate Muggles, Muggle-borns, Blood Traitors, and how much you espouse the ideals of blood and magical supremacy. Unquestioning loyalty to the Dark Lord is, of course, a requirement for the position as well. Hogwarts is less a school, as we remember it, and more a huge indoctrination and education camp."

"Brainwashing kids..." Hermione said softly, processing what he'd said.

"Yeah. Exactly that."

"No chance we could get a look at that book via either of them?" She asked, trying to consider some way or another to bribe one of the siblings.

"Maybe... But, nothing that immediately comes to mind."

With a rapid pattering of footfalls, Whittle quickly entered the room. "She's here. J-just apparated outside." She whispered, a knock sounding at the door the moment she finished.

"Okay." Hermione said, looking at Draco as he raised his wand at her. "See you soon." She smiled, the smile returned albeit sadly.

"Yeah. Imperio."

~~~

She'd been calm, for the most part. Sure, there'd been a pang of concern when Whittle had announced Bellatrix's arrival, but the moment she felt the spell wash through her she'd never felt calmer. Smiling at Draco she leaned over, unsure why she'd be holding back before, and quickly kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you Draco. For last night. I loved it." She smiled, wracking her brain for why she hadn't told him that earlier. She had to keep secrets, she knew that. Nobody could know about how she felt for him, and him for her -- well, nobody except Whittle, Pansy, and maybe the other members of the Remnant one day. She knew she had to keep the Remnant a secret too, and everything else about them moving to overthrow the Dark Lord. She'd keep those secrets, easily, but why she hadn't told Draco about how she felt about last night, she couldn't understand.

She watched as he went to speak, but ended up just nodded awkwardly and gesturing her to follow him. Getting up and stepping out into the hallway, she was met with the sight of Lucius and Narcissa greeting Bellatrix as she stepped inside.

Draco's aunt was wearing her usual blacks, but as she shed her coat and dropped it unceremoniously on Whittle, Hermione's eyes were drawn to what she was carrying, or more accurately, who. She saw a young girl, with grey silver hair, a bit like Draco's but lacking the subtle blonde hue. She couldn't have been two years old, Hermione thought, maybe a year and half.

"Auntie." Draco smiled, moving forward and hugging her after his parents stepped aside. "And hello you." He added, smiling and running his thumb down the little girl's cheek.

"Draco." Bellatrix replied, hugging him back, one-handed, as her other arm supported the child.

"Hello Bellatrix." Hermione added, smiling and stepping forward slightly. "Lovely to see you again. Who's this?" She added, smiling at the little girl. She was adorable.

"Mudblood. This," Bellatrix began, hefting the little girl up slightly to readjust her weight, "is Delphini. She's better than you, Granger. Aren't you?" She continued, asking the question rhetorically at Delphini. "She's my, and the Dark Lord himself's, Daughter." She concluded, a look of pride in her eyes, less at being a mother, and more at the fact that the Dark Lord had chosen her to mother his child.

She glanced over at Draco, curious as to why he hadn't mentioned that he had a cousin to the Dark Lord, but she didn't mind, the curse making her practically impossible to annoy. Smiling, she looked back. "May I hold her? I understand if you'd prefer I didn't though." She asked, looking hopefully at Bellatrix.

"I don't see why not. Be good practice for when you start make little mini Dracos." She replied, smirking at her, before glancing at Draco and smiling wickedly.

She stepped up and held her hands out, Bellatrix shifting her grip and passing Delphini over. "She's old enough to move around on her own now, so don't expect to be holding her for long. Still, no matter how long it is, it's more than your deserve, Mudblood."

"Of course, Bellatrix. Oh, she's lovely." Hermione replied, hefting the surprisingly heavy toddler. She'd never really had the chance to hold a baby or toddler before, and was taken aback at how heavy they actually were.

They moved through to the living room and sat down, Delphini balanced on Hermione's knees, her bouncing the little girl up and down. Before Bellatrix got comfortable, however, she opened a small purse she was carrying and, retrieving her wand, called a series of toys from the evidently magically expanded interior of the purse. She laid the objects appropriately on the floor and then gestured to Hermione to put Delphini on the floor, which she happily did, though did somewhat miss having her on her knee.

"She's wonderful, Bellatrix. You must be very proud." Draco said, Hermione looking first at him, and then across at Bellatrix.

They spoke for a good period of time, Whittle interrupting relatively early on to bring in drinks. The conversation was, mostly, meaningless pleasantries. Talk of how the Dark Lord was pushing Wizarding Britain to greater heights, all the while having the Minister convince the Muggle Prime Minister that there was nothing to worry about. Bellatrix would also talk of Delphini, of how she was proud and impressed by the rate of her development, and how she had already displayed magical aptitude by floating herself out of her bed one night -- this struck Hermione as notably impressive, as it showed an innate grasp of Unaided Flight, a form of magic not known to many at all, and rumoured to have been created by the Dark Lord himself, and though she had personally seen several members of the Order use it, they may have reverse engineered the spell after seeing it in use.

"Will you be sending her to Hogwarts?" Narcissa asked.

"Well, that's a long ways off yet, but I doubt it. I'm sure I'd rather teach her myself, you know? Most of all the best things I learned, I learned outside of that ruinous school." Bellatrix replied, "Plus, with the Carrows running it, well, they're loyal... But they're not exactly the best professors Hogwarts has ever seen." She continued, catching Delphini as she stumbled into her legs, before smiling at her, turning her around, and ushering her to go play, which the toddler gladly did, cooing as she went. "Anyway, what about you?" She asked, looking across at her and Draco, "Are you pregnant yet, Mudblood?"

"No, not yet, but if Draco keeps up like- sorry. Draco told me not to talk about this around his parents." She replied, about to refer to the amount of cum Draco had deposited in her last night. She, of course, knew that the contraceptive charm he had then cast removed any chance of her getting pregnant, at all, but she also knew that that was to be kept a secret.

"Oh, why's that Draco?" Bellatrix asked, looking across at him and ignoring the very obvious look of discomfort worn by her sister and brother-in-law.

"Don't be dumb, Auntie. Obviously my parents don't want to hear about their child's sexual activity." He replied, smiling back at her, "Out of respect for them, I have forbade Granger from talking about it."

"Nonsense." She said, glancing across at Narcissa and Lucius, that wildness creeping back into her eyes, a look that was noticeably absent when she was focused on, or talking about, Delphini. "You're not a boy anymore," she looked back, "you're a man now. Plus, given the Mudblood's purpose here, the Dark Lord is expecting something in the way of updates -- making sure she's being put to good use. Don't forget, Draco, as much as she was a reward for you, her being placed with you is part of the Dark Lord's plans for the future of Wizarding kind."

"Wait, so, are you ordering me, on the authority of the Dark Lord himself, to tell about what Granger and I have been up to?" Draco asked, sitting forward, looking at her, then across at his parents, and then back.

"Yes, I have to, dear. The Dark Lord expects an update." She replied, Hermione able to see the lie in her eyes. Voldemort had done no such thing. Bellatrix wanted to picture her nephew fucking somebody, and hearing from him exactly what he was doing, albeit everything Draco would say would be a lie, would help her do precisely that.

"Well, this is somewhat awkward, you are my aunt after all, but if the Dark Lord commands it... Mother, father..." Draco allowing his words to trail off as he saw both Narcissa and Lucius get up to leave, Narcissa looking disgustedly concerned in her sister's direction.

Watching Draco, she saw him shift ever so slightly, uneasy, she assumed, remembering back to the events with Pansy when she had asked similar questions. She remembered how difficult Draco seemed to find it, inventing and creating scenarios in his head about something he found so abhorrent. She watched and waited for Lucius and Narcissa to be truly out of the room, and then she spoke before Draco had chance.

"Now that I can answer, no, Bellatrix, I'm not pregnant yet... That I know of. But if Draco keeps putting the amount of cum in me that he did last night, I can't imagine it will take too long. We've just been a bit unlucky, it seems." She said, both of her audience turning to look at her as she spoke, Bellatrix's expression shifting to one of excitement.

"Oh? Productive then? Seems that I was right in suggested Draco for this, I always assumed he'd be able to sire plenty of new Witches and Wizards if he applied himself." She said, casting her eyes over them both, Hermione watching as she tightened her thighs, evidently excited by the subject matter.

"Productive? Yes, certainly. Then again, I believe we might have more luck having a child if Draco was to focus on that task." She continued, smilingly coyly over at him as her mind span up other situations that she could lie about to Bellatrix.

"What do you mean?" Bellatrix quizzed.

"Well, some of Draco's interests they... Well, let's just say that they couldn't possibly lead to childbirth." Hermione replied, running her finger lightly across her lips, her implication evidently being understood when Bellatrix perked up further.

"Oh yes, well, he is a man. They are all alike in some regards. Made her swallow a lot, have you Draco?" She asked, turning to face him, seemingly wanting to hear from him now, Hermione falling silent and hoping Draco could spin a convincing lie with her foundations. She wasn't worried, though part of her thought she should be -- she just couldn't quite become worried. It was a strange feeling.

"Well, it is awkward talking about this with you auntie, but... A fair amount, yes. I mean, she spent so long running her mouth at Hogwarts, being an insufferable know-it-all that, well, I rather figured she could use her mouth for better things." He replied, glancing sideways at Hermione as he did.

Bellatrix's laugh filled the room, the same cackle that Hermione had heard several times before. The sound caused unpleasant and painful memories to surface in her mind, but unlike usual, they didn't upset her. She couldn't become upset it seemed.

The manic look that she always envisioned Bellatrix as wearing had fully returned to her eyes now, Hermione only now realising that Lucius and Narcissa had taken Delphini with them when they left, undoubtedly not wanting the toddler to hear what was being discussed in here, even if she was too young to process or even understand the words.

"Well, just yesterday, Draco has me choking right where you're now sitting, Bellatrix." Hermione said, the wild haired woman looking back at her, "I'll, um, I can stop being quite so specific, if you'd prefer."

"Oh, not at all. More details the better. Besides, Mudblood, you're doing far more good here than someone like you has any right to. Then, of course, there's your living arrangements, a filthy Muggle-born like you deserves a camp, or a shallow grave, not a manor. I hope you see how lucky you are." She sneered, taking her wand out, her original crooked walnut wand that she had taken back from Hermione at the end of the Battle of Hogwarts. "Stand up." She said, gesturing for her to do so.

She did so, deciding to ignore the urge to glance across at Draco, knowing that there was little he could do in this situation without showing their hand.

Bellatrix flicked her wand at her and Hermione felt her clothes tug, loosen, haul up, and fall down until she was standing naked in front of them both.

"Bellatrix, what are you doing?" Draco asked, Hermione marveling at how level he managed to keep his voice.

"I want to see what you're getting. I haven't really gotten chance to really check this little Mudblood out until now." She replied, standing and up and walking toward her.

She simply stood there, allowing Bellatrix to look her up and down intently. She even grabbed her a few times, not that any of her actions were making her feel uncomfortable in the slightest. It was then, however, as her fingers ran through her hair, that she felt a twinge of pain as Bellatrix seemed to deliberately pull a single hair free, palming it while concealed from Draco. As she moved around behind her, Hermione felt as she squeezed her ass firmly, dragging a finger up between her cheeks, before she swept back to her chair.

"You can get dressed now. I just wanted to see what my nephew was getting to enjoy. Curiosity can so often get the better of me." She chuckled, dropping down into her seat, her arms wide, a hand on each rest.

Hermione smiled, first at her, and the at Draco, in part to make sure he was still acting the part, and sure enough he was looking at her, running his eyes over every curve, her body reacting slightly to his gaze. "Do you want me to get dressed, Draco?" She asked, seeing him staring at her.

He cleared his throat, pulling his eyes free of her, "Not really, but you better had, or one thing may well lead to another." He replied.

She smiled and quickly pulled her clothes back on, thinking how lucky it was that she hadn't kept her wand on her after all.

"Well, I'm going to go find my sister. Don't go anywhere." Bellatrix said happily, standing up and sweeping out of the room.

Hermione looked across at Draco to see the conflicted look in his eye. Just as she was about to ask him what was wrong, her leveled his wand at her and pulled the curse free.

The immediate surge of emotions that washed through her took her by surprise. Everything she should have felt since Bellatrix's arrival had been held back like a dam, but now the dam was gone, and she felt them all at once. Shame was the first and strongest, shame at having stood there and allowed Bellatrix Lestrange to touch her. Then anger and hate, both directed at that vile woman. Then concern... A deep gnawing concern.

"Why didn't you tell me Bellatrix had a daughter with Vol- with the Dark Lord?" She whispered, instinctually and reactively crossing her arms as if to shield herself, despite having just been naked.

"I'm sorry, I... I don't know, it didn't seem to matter. Delphini existing doesn't change our plans-" he began.

"Yes it does." She interrupted.

"What, how?"

"We can't leave her here, with them as parents."

"What?" He asked, keeping his voice low.

"Draco, everything that happened to you... That poor girl is going to get that tenfold. Bellatrix and him are not- they can't be allowed to raise her, imagine who she'll become."

"We can't just take her, we do that and we're exposed. They'll know we oppose them, and... Let's not forget, we would have taken their daughter. They'll be fucking furious, Hermione." He stammered, though she could see in his eyes that he knew she was right.

"Saving her, a child, is worth the risk-" she began.

"Stop, look, this isn't the time," he interrupted, "I'm so sorry about everything, do you... Do you want to go back under? I need to check."

"No, you're right," she said, knowing they only had seconds before everyone returned. "Yeah, yeah, put me back under. I- I can't deal with that woman." She nodded, remembering something, "oh, Draco, she took some of my hair." She said, watching him prepare his wand.

"What, your hair?"

"My guess is, she's more interested in you than I thought." She grimaced before gesturing at him. "Come on, hurry."

His expression shifted between shock and revulsion, before he swallowed it and raised his wand again. "Imperio."

~~~

"I can see why she would be, though. Interested in you." Hermione continued the wash of magic shunting every negative emotion down to the point where they didn't register.

"That's enough." Draco said, not harshly, but she stopped instantly anyway.

Looking over his shoulder, she watched as Bellatrix walked back in holding Delphini's hand who pottered along beside her. Lucius and Narcissa followed them in, Hermione seeing the heavily obfuscated, though still just barely visible, disgust in Narcissa's eyes as to Bellatrix's recent behaviours toward Draco.

The next few hours continued similarly, but eventually Draco stood up, gesturing for her to follow, a gesture that she obeyed immediately.

"Well, I trust you are staying for a few days, Bellatrix?" He asked, receiving a nod in response, "then we still have plenty of time. If you all will excuse us, I'm expecting some letters relating to my research and, well, another of a more personal nature, so, I shall see you all at dinner?"

Lucius and Narcissa nodded, as did Bellatrix, before returning to their conversation. Draco knelt down and ruffled Delphini's hair, smiling at her warmly, before turning and heading out, Hermione following him.

It wasn't until they entered his study that he lifted the curse, her shoulders tightening slightly as the impossible calm of the curse left her and reality reasserted itself fully, and a familiar surge of emotion flooded her mind.

"I hate that woman." She muttered.

"I know." Draco replied, looking at her apologetically.

"I don't think I've ever hated someone quite as completely as I do her." Recent memories of Bellatrix running her hands over her, sending bile and rage into her throat.

"I know, I'm- I'm sorry you had to deal with her and... I'm sorry for this but I need to ask." Draco began, her looking up at him, away from her wrist she was rubbing, the Mudblood scar there aching.

"What?" She asked, curious as to what could be troubling him.

"I- I'm not assuming anything, and what you said makes sense but... Delphini. Are you sure about what you said? That it's for her sake? This isn't- this isn't just about hurting Bellatrix? I mean I completely understand if it is, but if we take her we'll need to, well, look after her, raise her, I just- I just want to make sure that this is coming from a level place, not from somewhere fuelled by hatred -- as justified as that would be."

She listened to his words and then smiled, looking down and moving over to the wooden chair, Draco intercepting her and instead gesturing toward the leather one which she sat on instead. "I... When I saw how she looked at Delphini, at how happy she made her, I'll admit that a part of me just wants to hurt her, but that's not my primary motivation. She and him took everything from me, took everyone I cared about, and... Yes, I guess, a part of me wanted her to know how that felt, but no. No, it's not my primary reason behind what I said, and I meant what I said, and I still mean it. We... We can't allow those two to raise a child." She began, speaking nothing but the truth. "What happened to you, that would be nothing compared to who those two would twist that little girl into. And if we don't do something to stop it, even though we can, well... We'll be complicit in it. I held her, I looked in her eyes, there's no evil there, not that I can see -- I mean, how could there be, she's just a toddler, but how much longer until that darkness begins to grow in her, nurtured and fed by those two? I- I can't let them destroy her." She finished, looking up at him leaning against the desk. He was smiling at her, only slightly, but he was. "What?"

"Nothing just... You always were such a busy body." He chuckled, "Can't just save one member of my family, no. Got to be at least two, right?"

She scoffed amusedly and looked away. "So, what about these letters?"

"Oh those. No, that was a lie, just to get us away from her. I already heard back from Hogwarts and Borgin & Burkes, and the personal letter... I just made that up. Might use it as an excuse later, if she starts paying you too much attention, say it's from Pansy, saying that she'd love to make our relationship a bit more official -- that should distract everyone suitably."

"I'd be more concerned about her interest in you, as opposed to me." Hermione replied, looking back at him. "I can't think of any other reason she would have taken my hair. She's planning, at least I assume, to polyjuice herself into me for an evening and, again I assume, lock me somewhere out of the way."

"Bellatrix is... Wrong, but that's a stretch, even for her." Draco said, squirming at the concept.

"I hope you're right. Good news, she believes I'm under the Imperius Curse, and will act accordingly. So, if I am right, you should be able to tell us apart fairly easily."

He nodded, "But... If you are right, her coming to me runs the risk of us being revealed just as surely as incinerating Nagini, or taking Delphini... And, well, if she's already taken your hair, then that means her polyjuice must be nearly done, if not already done, and with her here for a few days, we might need to act sooner rather than later."

"We're going to need to talk to the Remnant aren't we, or at least Pansy?" She replied, knowing full well that he was right.

He pulled out his coin and his wand, "I think so, yeah." He then played his wand over the surface of the coin, changing the minting date to simply ready PP - DM. "There. She should, hopefully, get back to us soon."

"If what she said yesterday was anything to go by, it may not be until tonight."

"Well, I just won't let you out of my sight." Draco explained, pocketing the coin and stowing his wand. "She can't replace you if she can't get the opportunity."

Hermione nodded before slowly looking across at the wooden box that held the WitchBane. "There's always that." She said. "She's after you anyway, but if we need to, we can put her under the sway of that thing, and she'll be pretty much harmless. We could do, well, whatever we wanted. Brazenly leave with Delphini, right in front of her, and she couldn't stop us. I'm not suggesting we do that, but... Well, it's an option."

She saw him think for a while before he spoke. "I'd rather not, but yeah." He began, dropping into the wooden chair, "I'm not thrilled with the notion of tearing a daughter away from her mother, or vice versa but... No, you're right, we can't leave her here, with them as parents." He looked across at her, "Who'd look after her though, us? I- I can't see me being good dad material."

"You? What about me? I'm a complete mess. I can't even figure out how I'm feeling most of the time. My insides are a war zone." She said, before getting somewhat embarrassed by her pseudo-admission, wondering if Draco had caught want she'd been referring to. "No, I figured Poppy or Rolanda."

Draco perked up as she said that, his shoulders relaxing somewhat as if a great weight had been lifted. "Yeah, that makes sense. Poppy is great, and Rolanda... Well, she's one of the most frightening people I've ever met. She'll definitely keep her safe. Besides, we couldn't look after her."

"Oh, hell no. No way." She agreed shifting on the leather as she did. "So... What did you have in mind, to pass the time?" She asked, her mind rapidly spinning up possibilities, her discomfort at Bellatrix's presence swiftly vanishing and being replaced with the awkward excitement that many of her musings caused.

"Honestly, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I just wanted to get you away from her, and out from under that curse." He replied, absentmindedly leafing through the parchment on his desk. "That can't have been pleasant."

She scoffed, smiling slightly. "Actually it is." She replied, then remembered that Draco had never been under the Imperius curse to understand how it feels. "Or, well, it's not unpleasant. It's just... Fine. Everything is fine. It- it's hard to explain." She said, unable to form a coherent explanation as she looked across at him.

He cocked his head thoughtfully before reaching around and retrieving her wand. "Here, put me under." He said, offering the wand toward her, his words taking her completely by surprise.

"What? No. No, Draco, I'm not." She replied, waving the wand away.

"Hermione, please."

"Why? Wh- why would you want me to do that?"

"Because I do it to you-"

"Only when I say to."

"Yes, but still. I have no idea what it's like, but yet you endure it for my sake. You doing this, going under the retain your cover, our cover, doesn't just protect you, but me as well. You do this, just sacrifice your free will, for both of our sakes and yet I don't even know what that's like. You trust me with your free will, I- I have no way of showing you that that trust is returned. I-" he offered her the wand again, "Please. I want to know what it's like."

She took the wand, looking down at it before looking back up at him and standing up. "Draco, you're an occlumens... They're notoriously difficult to put under the Imperius Curse. I- I don't know if I'll be able to."

"I won't resist it, that should make it easier."

"Wait, can you teach me that, occlumency?" She asked, noticing him shift somewhat awkwardly at her question.

"I... I can try. I mean, I remember the lessons I received but... If I teach you, as part of that, I would be inside your head, Hermione. I would know... Nearly everything about you. The only way to learn it is to actively try to resist Legilimency. Over the course of that, I guarantee, you will fail a few times, and when you do I'll be in your head, able to read your thoughts, and see your memories. Are you... Are you sure you want that?" He asked, still standing, waiting for her to rob him of his freedom.

She faltered, her wand lowering temporarily, "I... I don't know. Are you?"

He smiled and nodded.

"Imperio." She thrust her wand toward him, focusing on concepts of dominion, of mastery, of crushing his freedom and stripping him of his free will.

Watching him, she saw his expression grow uncertain, only to be replaced by a hollow, contented, smile. She lowered her wand, looking at him sadly. Not only was this the first time he'd ever experienced the vacant, happy, hell that was the Imperius Curse... But it was also her first time ever casting an unforgivable curse. Ron and Harry, they had both used them before, during their actions against Voldemort, but she never had.

"See?" She asked, Draco perking up as she spoke. "Everything is... Just fine, when you're under. No matter what you're told to do, no matter how bad it is, it just seems... Fine. Do you see?"

"Yes." He replied, still smiling.

"I could get you to do anything." She began, her mind once again spinning up possibilities. Her time in the camps had hardened her, she knew that, but there was something else there as well. A cruel streak, perhaps. A cruel streak that definitely hadn't been there before. Losing everyone and everything had broken her, in some ways. She wasn't the person she'd been before. She aspired to be, but if she was honesty, she wasn't. The images flashing through her mind now that she had him under her away were testament to that. Images of her ordering him to go and kill Bellatrix... It would likely work too, as she would never see it coming. Or images of her getting him to do things to her, things he would likely do of his accord anyway, but with the sense of supreme authority instilling the deeds, making her feel powerful for the first time since everything had gone wrong. The temptation was there, and it was there in force. "Come over here." She said, pointing at the ground in front of her, as she stood.

Draco moved around still smiling, "Sure."

She looked at him, standing a few feet from her. She stepped closer, until the distance between them was in the inches. She smiled as a memory flashed through her mind. "Fix my belt." She smiled, remembering the ruse she had to enact in front of Narcissa.

Draco went to do so but stopped, looking back at her again. "Sorry. You're not wearing a belt, Hermione."

She sniggered, of course the jovial implication would be lost on him as the spell compelled him to do precisely as told. She looked back at him, after her brief laugh knocked her eyes away, and was immediately assailed by memories of the night before. His face was, at times, as close to hers as it was right now, if not closer. Deep parts of her waking up, despite the still simmering anger she held at Bellatrix, and concern over Delphini. "On-" she swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, "On your knees."

As he did, as he sank to his knees, just inches from her, her heart started beating faster and she could feel herself getting wetter at the concept of her receiving something she'd only heard about, only dreamt about.

She shook her head. She couldn't, wouldn't do what Draco hadn't. Looking down at him, she twisted her wand in her grasp, as if wrapping a thread around the tip of it, before pulling it loose, discarding it, ending the spell.

His eyes dropped as his senses returned, only for them to look back up at her with an amused expression. "Really?"

"Well, I figured turn about is fair play." She replied, smirking down at him, once again remembering back to the moment with Narcissa, outside Draco's room. The sense of excitement, or longing, not diminishing however, her thighs tightening slightly as she looked down at him, his eyes meeting hers from his knelt position.

"Can't argue with that." He chuckled, moving to get up. Her hand flew to the top of his shoulder before she could even think.

"I- I didn't say you could get up." She said, her voice quiet, almost a squeak. Nowhere near as forceful as she had hoped, the stammer at the beginning not helping in the least.

Draco did stop however, looking immediately again up into her eyes. She didn't need a mirror to know how she looked, to know what her expression said. She knew her mouth was slightly agape, she knew her cheeks must either be flushed, or soon would be... And she knew her eyes must have been lidded, and heavy with what she was thinking.

He didn't say anything. Not a word. He just knelt there, looking up at her, inches from her. With her wand discarded on the chair, she swallowed, and slid her hand from his shoulder. Moving her other from hanging limp by her side, she gestured for his hands, him doing as requested. As his hands reached hers, she didn't take hold of them, instead, swallowing her nerves, guiding them up to the button on her jeans.

Other things about her had changed too, though those had taken a might longer for her accept, and acknowledge. She had no patience, well, that wasn't entirely accurate. She had patience, she just didn't want to utilize it. She'd waited and she'd wasted so much time not doing the things she wanted with the people she wanted -- and that had cost her, it had cost her dearly. She was done allowing her fears to hold her back.

She manipulated his hands and fingers until the button on her jeans came loose. Then, sliding her hands from his, her breath caught as he continued. He manipulated the zip, before sliding his hands to the waistband to begin gently sliding them down. She felt as he worked his fingers under the waistband of her underwear as well, pulling them down simultaneously.

His eyes were on hers the entire time, but she couldn't hold them. As he leaned forward kissing just bellow her navel, she let out a shuddering gasp and looked up toward the ceiling, the embarrassment, the senseless embarrassment and shame that was filling her making it impossible to hold his gaze.

Her fists clenched tighter and tighter as Draco pulled her jeans and underwear down. As they reached her knees, he ran his hands up her legs, the sensation causing the butterflies in her stomach to storm around inside her. Kissing her again, lower still, he gently pushed her backwards. She stepped back as best she could, the jeans around her knees complicating the issue considerably and causing her to essentially trip and stumble back until she was leaning on the desk behind her.

Her kissed again, his lips pressing to where she had only just this morning cleanly shaven herself, her fingers gripping the desk in anticipation. She forced her gaze down as she felt him gently push her legs apart, or as far apart as they could go, still partially restrained by denim. If he had ever looked away from her face, she didn't know, but looking back down at him, her eyes immediately met his, staring back at her.

"Relax." He said, his breath washing over her, causing her breath to hitch.

"How can I possibly rela-ah." She began, her grip on the table increasing sharply, and her words betraying her, becaming nothing more than a squeak, as she felt his lips press to her clit.

Her eyes went wide, and though she could still him through her periphery, and knew he could still read her expression, she couldn't look him in the eye as her entire upper body rolled slightly, it happening again as she felt him tease her ever so slightly open with his tongue.

All she kept trying to think was that some of her fears, some of her nerves were unfounded. Draco was experienced at this, or so she believed. He'd been with Pansy during their time at Hogwarts, and had admitted that they had done things, and Pansy didn't strike her as a selfless lover -- so she was fairly sure she would have expected, or maybe even taught, Draco how to do this. The rest of her fears however, the ones relating to the fact that she had never experienced this before, were still very present, and very valid ones.

He reached around, grabbing just above her ass and pulled her forward, though not to move her, but to instead cause her to roll her hips slightly, granting him easier access... Something he exploited immediately by pushing his face deeper, and dragging his tongue up her until it once against struck her clit, sending another bolt of pleasure coursing up her.

She wanted to look at him, to see him doing this to her, but she couldn't. She looked down at him, but as her eyes met his, he set on her in earnest. Moaning out, her eyes closed and she looked upward, her back arching as he alternated between lapping and flicking her clit with his tongue, and driving his tongue deep up inside her.

He spent the next few minutes alternating, pushing her through her first orgasm, and, she assumed, evaluating her reactions to figure out what she preferred. In truth, and as he figured out, it was the alternation -- never knowing where or what he would focus on next, it drove her mad. She felt as his tongue slipped from her, and moved up toward her clit again, only for two of his fingers to press up inside where his tongue had just been.

"Oh, fuck." She gasped, her legs tightening around his head as her right hand left the desk to pull him harder onto her, her fingers gripping his hair.

She forced herself to look down, and was met by his eyes, always waiting for hers to return. His eyes were heavy, and predatory, and the moment hers met his, he bent his two fingers up and touched somewhere inside her that made her cry out again, immediately throwing her head back as another orgasm drowned her mind. 

"S-stop. Stop." She stammered, as her senses finally faded from purple to real. Loosening her legs, trying to un-cramp her toes, and pushing him gently backwards.

Pulling back, her sat back in his feet, his face glistening with her. He opened his mouth to speak, undoubtedly to ask if she was okay, or if he'd done something she hadn't liked -- but she didn't give him the chance. Pushing herself forward, she fell to her knees, level with him, and slid forward, pressing her lips to his as her hands ran up to grab the sides of his face.

The taste of herself on his lips, and in his mouth was unreal. She held him, constantly resetting their kiss as her hands would stroke his skin and hair, for what felt like minutes until she finally leaned back, locking her eyes with his once again. She wanted to tell him to stand up, but she couldn't form words. Instead, she just lowered her hands to his trousers, before manipulating the button free.

"Hermione," Draco said softly, his hands going to hers to stop them, "You don't have t-"

"I want to." She interrupted, surprised by how different her voice sounded when it was loaded with lust, "Now get up, your stupid jeans won't come down." She protested, seeing the sizable bulge constrained by the denim.

He unfolded his legs from beneath him and pushed up off the ground. The moment she could, the moment his own legs weren't preventing his jeans from moving, she pulled them down. Unlike what Draco had done with her however, the thought of snagging his underwear en route did not occur to her, and as she looked back up, she was met with the sight of his fully erect cock barely contained by the pale blue boxers he was wearing.

Reaching up to slip him out of the opening at the front, her fingers wrapping around him for the first time, surprised at how hot it was, her mind recoiled back to the joke she had made days previous about now knowing that Draco Malfoy wore Y fronts, and remembering his reply that he wore whatever he fancied at the time.

The memory faded quickly, being completely annihilated as she finally pulled him free and was now kneeling with his penis less than an inch from her face, and she realised that she had no idea what she was doing.

Not wanting him to sense her trepidation, she started off with the fairly simple stuff, or at least simple by comparison. She tried to hold his eyes, which she actually found easier now she was in charge of the moment, and began dragging her tongue up the underside of him from base to tip. She saw as his body tensed, and as his eyes began to break contact for milliseconds at a time.

What do I do with my teeth, she thought, how the fuck do I keep them out of the way? I can't retract them, they're there, and they're staying. Oh shit. What if I hurt him? What if I'm shit at this? What the fuck do I with my teeth?!

He must be getting suspicious. This was like the third time she'd ran her tongue along him. Actually, he didn't look suspicious at all, he looked thoroughly lost in it, but still. She couldn't just lick him for eternity, despite how kind of pleasant it was. He tasted like skin, sort of sweaty skin, and though, as the thought of it, it sounded kind of gross -- the circumstances made it anything but.

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

Steadying her breathing, she opened her mouth, or her jaws, as wide as she could, desperate to keep her teeth way out of the way, and then leaned forward.

She rested his cock in her tongue as she took him into her mouth, almost as if her tongue was carrying it into her. She closed her mouth, feeling the hard yet simultaneously soft skin of him on her lips, careful to keep her teeth as far away as she could.

She could feel her heart racing. In all that time at Hogwarts, all those books she read, she never once thought to check any that talked about sex? What was wrong with her?

Trying to suppress her rapidly spiraling thoughts, she instead opted to run on instinct, and what made sense. She pressed her tongue to him again as she pushed her head forward. She had already taken the head of his cock into her mouth, but as she took more and more inches, it became rapidly, alarmingly clear that her gag reflex wasn't meant for this, not yet at least, so she decided that instead of depth, she would opt for motion.

Fuck. How the fuck was she meant to do anything, he took up nearly her entire mouth. How do other women do this? She thought, trying to coil her tongue around him as she set about rhythmically sliding him in and out of her mouth.

It felt incredible, feeling his pulse on her tongue and inside her mouth as his heart beat harder, sending blood surging to his penis to keep it hard for her. As her tongue dragged along the bottom, in the opposite direction to what she had her lips moving, she could swear she could feel the veins there pulsing.

"Fuck, 'Mione." She heard him gasp, his voice barely audible, barely above a whisper.

She wanted to see his hands, to watch them ball into fists through want to grab her, but she didn't want to look away from his eyes. Every time she had looked down at him, his eyes had been waiting, and she wanted to do the same for him.

She slipped her left hand from his leg to instead cup his balls, feeling them immediately, and somewhat amusingly, tighten at her touch. She then set about gently rolling them across her palm as she increased the pace she was moving her head. Her right hand, which had been holding the base of his shaft since the beginning, she set to work, sliding it up and down his cock at erratic rates. Sometimes faster than her lips were moving, sometimes slower. Sometimes in a complimentary direction, other times opposed. Every time he looked down however, her eyes were there to meet him.

She kept working him for several minutes, enjoying the power she held over him in this moment, and living for the few gasping moans that left him.

"Hermione stop, I'm going to-"

Shit. She hadn't thought of this. How hadn't she thought of this? This was obviously the whole point of this, why hadn't she thought about this?

Her mind was firing at an exceptional rate, as thousands of thoughts flooded her minded as she felt his testicles tighten in her hand.

He was going to cum. Should she stop? Should she let him cum on her face, or in her mouth? He hadn't stopped. He'd worked her through two of her own orgasms and never once slowed down, never once stopped. She had to let him cum in her mouth, surely. Should she swallow? Could she swallow? What if it was gross? What if it made her vomit... Oh fuck, what if she vomited?

She felt his cock harden further and felt as he began to cum.

It was too late now. She'd realised, only then, that throughout her panicked thinking she hadn't stopped working him. As far as he was concerned, she was milking him for every drop. She couldn't very well pull back now. How embarrassing would that be?

Her eyes went wide and she had to suppress a gag, turning it into a swallow as the first rope of Draco's cum struck the back of her throat far harder than she thought possible. The second was just as brutal, hitting the back of her throat in a sensation similar to someone reaching into her mouth and flicking there. The third and fourth were less so, but they came with their own issues -- she could only swallow so fast. It was then she tasted him, tasted cum, for the first time. It was similar to the stories she'd been told at school, it was salty, somewhat like egg whites, but his wasn't as bad as some of the other girls had claimed to have experienced. Whether it was the circumstances, or maybe Draco's diet, she didn't know, but it didn't taste terrible -- which was lucky for her, as her mouth was rapidly filling with it.

She swallowed again, practically gulping, but it wasn't enough. She pulled herself free, swallowing the last that she could, the final rope of cum from Draco striking her chin and then fabric of her jumper. She swallowed the last bit left in her mouth, taking a split second to swirl it across her tongue, and then looked up at Draco. She was still holding his cock, and she knew full well her chin and jumper had a not inconsiderable amount of semen on them, and was taken aback by the look of awe and guilt in Draco's eyes.

"Sorry." --- "Sorry."

They both said in unison, making the other chuckle.

"What in Merlin's name have you got to be sorry for? That was amazing." Draco asked, crouching down slightly to help her stand, the look of nigh-amazement still in his eyes.

"I don't know... I couldn't, I don't know, swallow it all." She said, unable to meet his gaze, her cheeks burning, as she wiped her mouth and chin on her hand.

"Don't be ridiculous." He said, leaning in to kiss her.

She didn't expect his lips to touch hers, or his tongue to press into her mouth, so soon after she'd swallowed his cum, but she melted into the kiss either way. It wasn't until he pulled back that she spoke.

"Well, what about you? What have you got to apologize for?"

"I should have given you more warning or... Pulled out, I don't really know. Something."

"I was after that. I mean, obviously I wanted you to... To cum. I just, it took me by surprise, which is kind of stupid." She chuckled, looking down at herself, before scanning around for her wand, unsure where she left it.

"Here." Draco said, taking her shoulder and grabbing his wand. "Scourgify."

The semen on her clothes, hand, and what was left on her chin vanished into a vapour that blinked out of existence.

It was only then that they both seemed to simultaneously notice that they were both standing in Draco's study, having a conversation, with their respective trousers somewhere between their knees and ankles.

They both looked at each other, then themselves, before chuckling lightly and correcting their clothing.

"This is not what I thought would be happening when you came back into my life a week ago." Draco mused aloud.

"Bloody hell... It's only been a week." She replied quietly, still shocked at how much her life had changed in such a brief period of time. "I can't believe all this has happened, between us, in a week."

"W-we can stop, or slowdown, or something, if you like. I- I meant what I said, I don't expect anything from you. I'm alive because of you, I have a reason to live because of you -- I can't expect mor-"

"Shut up, Malfoy." She said softly, smiling at him, and seeing in his eyes that, in no way, did he want this to end.

"I don't regret a thing, except maybe not training my gag reflex," she smirked, "I'm... I'm just surprised that things have moved so fast, but I'm also grateful. I... I'm done wasting time waiting for things. Tomorrow isn't promised, to anyone, and I won't die with any more regrets than the those I currently have."

He smiled at her. "You're incredible."

She knew what he meant when he said that. She knew how he felt about her, she'd heard him say it, yesterday, with the Remnant. She hadn't mentioned it, nor had she told him the same, partly because she wasn't sure if she did love him. Fuck, her insides were a mess. She was sure, well nearly sure, how she felt but there was something, guilt, she supposed, that prevented her from admitting it -- be it to herself or him. All that talk of not waiting, not ending a day with things unsaid or undone, and here she was unable to ratify her affections for him. 

What was she waiting for? Was she waiting for him to say it to her, willingly, as opposed to under the effects of veritaserum? Would that make what she already knew more real somehow?

She smiled at him. "You too."


	11. Chapter 11

[[[ My depression flared up and that slowed things down. Sorry.

Enjoy. ]]]

__________

**Part Eleven.**

Looking up from his book, his eyes rested on Hermione reading her own. They'd spent the last few hours simply chatting, or reading their respective novels that Draco had brought up earlier. As far as the rest of his family was concerned they were doing research, but in actuality they were simply avoiding them.

He'd loved chatting with her. They so rarely did that. They usually only spoke about charged subjects such as their history, their future, Voldemort, the Remnant, or where their current relationship was heading. They hardly every chatted about nonsense, and he'd loved every minute of it.

Looking at her, her expression shifting every so subtly as she absorbed whatever narrative her novel was feeding her, he wondered why she hadn't said anything about his admission the other day. She'd heard him when he admitted falling for her, but she hadn't spoken on it, or confronted him about it. That night, the night after his admission, when they'd had sex for the first time, he assumed, he'd hoped that that had meant she felt the same -- but maybe it didn't. She hadn't said anything, and he couldn't blame her. He wouldn't be resentful if she didn't, couldn't, love him. He'd be disappointed, he'd be upset, but he couldn't blame her.

Maybe he was just an out, a way for her to vent her pent up anger and frustration. Sex was good for that, for purging the body of stress, and if that was the case, if he was a just a tool to make her feel better... He'd be okay with that. It would still mean he was doing more good than he'd done for the rest of his life. He just wanted to know.

He wouldn't ask her, he didn't want to pressure her, she was under enough pressure as it was. He would continue doing anything and everything he could to help her. She was, after all, the only reason he was still alive.

It was then he noticed her looking over her book, meeting his gaze.

"What?" She said curiously, her voice soft and automatically pulling his lips into a smile.

The effect she had on him surprised him sometimes. He couldn't put his finger on when he'd started falling, maybe it just went from one extreme to another -- from caring nothing for her to being completely besotted. Or maybe it had been so insidious, so natural, that he simply hadn't noticed his rapid fall. Either way, it was done now.

"Nothing." He replied, smiling, her smiling at him before slowly returning to her book.

He'd stopped reading a while ago, the moment his eyes rested on her, and even though he was now looking at the paper once more, he still wasn't reading. Instead he thought of Delphini. She was wonderful, he truly cared for her, loved her. She was his family, and unlike most she was still innocent, still good. The moment he'd learned that Bellatrix and Voldemort had had a child he'd expected the thing to be some wretched amalgamation of the worst parts of both of them, some gaunt, soulless monster... But she wasn't. She was a little girl. She babbled, she fell over, she pawed curiously at things as she tried to pick them up, and she was always happy to fall asleep when he held her. The thought of rescuing her from Bellatrix obviously appealled to him, especially after the upbringing he'd been put through, but at the same time, she seemed so happy, and tearing her away from her mother still sat uneasily within him.

A knock at the door snapped him back to reality and he glanced quickly across at Hermione as she closed her novel, placed it in a drawer, and set about pretending to research.

"Yes?" He called, the door opening.

"Miss Granger, M-master Malfoy. Dinner will be ready soon." Whittle said, the moment her large round eyes came into view.

"Thank you, Whittle." Hermione replied, standing up and looking over at her. "Do you have a minute?"

Whittle thought for the briefest moment before nodding, "Y-yes, but not long." She replied, stepping in and closing the door.

"You know about the Remnant, well, we are going to be leaving sooner rather than later it seems... I would love it if you came with us." Hermione said, moving closer. "You don't have to, of course, you're free to go wherever you please but, well, I'd miss you."

"Whittle would love to come." The elf answered, her face lighting up. "Miss Granger and Master Malfoy are Whittle's friends, W-whittle would love to stay with them."

Hermione smiled widely and Draco watched as she fell to her knees and embraced the House Elf. "There is one more thing," she said, ending the hug and rocking back, "We're taking Delphini with us."

He watched as Whittle's eyes grew wider and shifted uncomfortably between them both. "Is that wise?"

"No." He interjected, both Whittle and Hermione looking across at him. "Not at all... But it's the right thing to do regardless." He continued, moving around the desk and then leaning on it. "You know what Bellatrix is like. You know what the Dark Lord is like. What do you think they'll turn that little girl into when given the chance?" He asked rhetorically. "We can't let that happen."

"Whittle will, obviously, help where she can but... Well, Whittle has never cared for a child before and, from what Whittle has gathered, parenting is not easy. Whittle will do what she can to help Miss Granger and Master M-Malfoy however."

"Oh, we won't be raising her, at least I doubt it. Draco and I are far too young. I imagine Madam Pomfrey or Madam Hooch will likely raise her." Hermione replied swiftly, "Draco and I couldn't do it."

Whittle shifted again, glancing an eye over them both. "Whittle understands. Whittle needs t-to get back, before she is missed." She said, her eyes falling in thought as she remembered she was cooking.

"Yes, we should all head down." Draco agreed, pulling his wand and looking over at Hermione, the apology evident in his eyes.

She nodded.

"Imperio." He said softly as he walked over to her, her smile hollow, and held his hand out receiving her wand in response. "Come on then." He said, a sad smile briefly playing across his face as he did.

It wasn't long before he was sat at the larger dining table, not the modest one in the kitchen but the one where he had personally seen Nagini eat the freshly murdered body of Charity Burbage. Hermione sat on his left, Bellatrix on his right, though she was at the head so, blissfully, there was a reasonable amount of space between them. His parents sat opposite making small talk as Draco focused on his meal, willing the interaction to be over as soon as possible.

He wanted to get Hermione as far away from Bellatrix as possible, and keep her there. He couldn't stand the look of tortured, heartbroken, hatred that filled her eyes due to his aunt.

"You seem awfully quiet, Draco. Distracted, maybe?" He heard, Bellatrix's words dragging him unfortunately back to the present.

"Yes, sorry, auntie. Just, um, Christmas on my mind." He lied, though it was a perfect idea, Christmas being only a few days away. "It's the ninth already. I have so many gifts to get. I might take Herm- Granger out tomorrow, do some shopping." He concluded, silently chastising himself for going to use her first name. The last thing he wanted was anyone think what was happening to him was actually happening to him.

"Oh. I can't wait to see what you get me." Bellatrix replied, winking at him, the image making spiders crawl his spine. "Unfortunately for you, Granger, the only thing you'll be getting is baby stuff." She added , flashing a cruel glance at Hermione, though it was met with a happy smile.

"That would be lovely." Hermione responded, "Delphini looks adorable, so I can only hope mine and Draco's child is even half as cute."

"If the Mudblood can even have children..." Narcissa muttered venomously, her earlier softening to Granger seemingly gone again.

"Oh she definitely can." Bellatrix replied, he comment simply meant as a throwaway confirmation, but something about it stuck with Draco, making him ask a question he knew he would regret.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh she had an examination, after a fashion. You see, normally I wouldn't care... But well, this one is special. She's A- the first one in this little experiment, and B- a gift for my favourite nephew. So I had to make sure." She began, he wished she stopped there, but she didn't. A medical examination could have deduced if Granger was capable of conceiving, but he knew that wasn't what Bellatrix had had done. "I had the guards at the camp take turns with her until she got pregnant." She continued, taking another piece of fish into her mouth and swallowing it. "Then, well we couldn't have that, so I had the baby spelled away, aborted, and then had Granger's memory wiped. I was in two minds about keeping this to myself, but well Draco you strike me as the sort to get a kick out of it."

He wanted to rip her throat out. To scrambled across the table, grab her trachea, and tear it out with his bare hands. Hermione had heard every word she'd said, and the moment he released her from the hold of the curse she'd experience every aspect of that revelation at once. 

He had to focus, to focus on not displaying his anger. He couldn't grimace. He couldn't grip his cutlery harder. He couldn't tense his jaw. He couldn't allow his hate to flare into his eyes.

He had to remain calm.

He had to remain calm.

"Well," he began, willing his voice not to break. All he wanted to do was scream, to cry for her, for Hermione, but he couldn't, "that's one way to make sure. H-how many?" He didn't want to know, not really, but a part of him did. He was going to kill everyone at that camp who had laid a finger on her. They would die, screaming.

"Not many. She's apparently very open to it. Just three." Bellatrix smirked.

Three.

Three.

He didn't care of it was three, or thirty three... He would demolish that entire building and slaughter every single member of staff in it.

Thankfully the conversation segued after that, back to politics and pathetic bickering. Whittle brought through several bowls of tiramisu, and though it was one of Draco's favourites, he could barely stomach anything after what Bellatrix had said.

The meal ended soon after and Draco went to excuse himself and Hermione so he could deal with his own rage, and then help her through hers, but before he could speak Bellatrix stopped him.

"Disappearing again? I know Granger must be fun, but I'd rather hoped to spend some time together during my visit."

"Of course, Bellatrix, I'm just waiting for something rather important... A surprise, of sorts. I won't be long, hopefully. If it doesn't materialize within an hour or so, I'll leave it until tomorrow." He replied.

"Very well. But not too long, okay. Or I might get jealous of Granger here, and I'd hate to break your new toy." She smirked.

He smiled in response before heading upstairs, his anger building with each step. By the time he closed the door to his room he was just about ready to explode. He staved it off for a few more seconds as he drew his wand.

"Cave Inimicum." He said, felling Hermione's eyes on him as he repeated the incantation on the other three walls, sealing them both in a sound proof bubble.

The moment he finished the last incantation, and felt the rush of magic take hold, he dropped his wand and punched the wall.

"Bitch!" He yelled out, feeling the bones in his hand fracture as the wall cracked under his strike. He slammed his head forward onto the wall and punched again, "Fucking bitch!" His fist struck the same place, pain flaring through him as the already fractured bones broke further.

"Draco. What's wrong?" Hermione asked, him wheeling on her, fury in his eyes.

"Fucking spell!" He lowered his voice, clenching his teeth to try and suppress his anger. It was pointless, but he couldn't keep her under any longer. He didn't want her to feel everything that was coming, but not allowing her to was far worse. Feeling the hot blood pour down his hand from the breaks in his skin, he beckoned her over. "Come here."

As she moved over, she reached for his hand, but her brushed her aside instead taking her into his arms and holding her tightly. He waited, waited for her place her arms around him, and to press her face into his chest, before he focused, and ended the spell.

"I'm so sorry. I'll kill them, we'll kill every single one." He said instantly, his hand brushing through her hair as he felt the first heavy, heartbreaking sob roll up from her core to her mouth to fill the room with the sounds of her tortured lamenting.

He wanted to speak, to find some way, some words that would make her feel better, but he knew there weren't any. Instead he stayed silent, and held her. Ignoring the growing wet patch on his top, and the discomfort in his back as she gripped him painfully. He held her and ran his, now he noticed, bleeding hand through her hair.

She cried for, well he didn't know how long, but the tears eventually gave way to anger. He felt her hands on his back ball into fists and she pulled back, placing her hands in his shoulders and shoving him away.

"You don't get to touch me!" She yelled, her face going white. "No one gets to touch me! Nobody gets to-" her words faltered as the first retch made her double over.

He was already moving by the time she retched again, flicking his wand at the bathroom door to open it. He heard as she threw up, but saw nothing, instead flicking his wand at the shower to turn it on, before kicking the door closed and turning back to face her, a pool of vomit on the floor as she began sobbing again.

"Three times..." He managed to hear between sobs. "But I don't remember them. Is that- is that better or worse? If- If I could remember them I could... But I can't. They took everything. Everything!" She glared across at him, her face a mess of tears, her eyes burning with more hatred than he'd ever seen in a person before. "You just take, don't you?! You rich fucking pure bloods." She got to her feet and moved on him. He stood his ground, making no attempt to avoid her or to assuage her. "Just take whatever you want, no matter who you have to rip it out of." She shoved him again, sending him back into the wardrobes, the wooden doors banging as his weight hit them.

He didn't try to stop her. He suppressed the reaction to throw his hands up to protect himself. She grabbed her wand from his waist and pointed it right at him.

"You just use people! Use- use me, and," her grip tightened on her wand, and he could see the subtle shifts in her posture that only an accomplished witch made without thinking, "and now I'm- you've made me... I- I slept with you, I... Fuck!" She threw her wand on the ground and turned around, looking away from him. "Another fucking guy getting his way with my body."

Every part of his ached for her, hurt for her. More tears welled his eyes, and more anger boiled up inside him -- anger at himself. He had no right, no right to shed tears.

"What in Merlin's name has happened?" He heard a voice sound from the window, turning to see Pansy stepping from her broom that hovered just outside the window before it fell into her hand. "Shit, Granger." She gasped, dropping her broom and sweeping across the take her in her arms.

"They- they-" Hermione's voice failed, replaced with wracking sobs as she leaned into Pansy's shoulders, evidently finding comfort in the presence of another woman, one she knew she could trust.

Pansy shot a look, a dangerous one, in his direction. "Malfoy, explain."

"Bellatrix she, she told us what happened at the camp, things that had been purged from Hermione's memory. It- it was bad. They... She was..."

"Oh... No. No." Pansy winced.

"Three times. They... They needed to- No. Bellatrix wanted them to make sure she was... Make sure she could conceive so..." He didn't finish. He couldn't. The words refusing to form, his body refusing to speak of such a hideous thing.

He watched as her eyes played over the scene, over him. He saw her eyes hang on the wet spot on his turtleneck, the blood on his hand, and the light streaks of blood in her hair.

She drew her wand. "Episkey."

He felt a sting in his hand as the bones fused together and his flesh rapidly restitched itself.

"Get yourself sorted, Draco. Then get out. I know you mean well," she began, Hermione not speaking, simply sobbing quietly. He then saw as Pansy mouthed the following words, not making a sound, "and so does she," she then continued speaking normally, "but right now you're not helping anyone. Get yourself sorted and get down stairs. Tell them I'm here, and we'll be down shortly... Actually," she paused before seemingly dismissing the thought, "Yeah. Just make up something, I'm sure we both know what, and we'll be down later. Just... Go." She smiled weakly, sadly.

He knew she was right. Hermione didn't need him right now. She needed someone else, someone that wasn't a guy. He nodded and headed into the bathroom, pausing to clean up the vomit with a flash of magic. Stepping into the bathroom, he thrust his wand at the shower, cutting it. It was a stupid idea, she wouldn't worry about needing a shower until long after she'd processed what she'd learned. Closing the door, hearing the very beginnings of Pansy's words before they fell away as the door closed, he turned to the mirror.

She hated him. She didn't... He knew that... But in that moment, all the hate in her eyes had been directed at him. He looked at his reflection and saw what she must see now. An entitled blood supremacist, just like the ones at the camp, the ones who had taken her. He'd slept with her yesterday, and just today he'd... And she'd... And now she learns that she's been abused, in the worst way imaginable. He looked down at the sink.

How could he look at Bellatrix? How could he go down and make small talk to the woman that had done such horrific things to woman he loved?

His eyes shot back up to the mirror. The anger building in them again, burning the self loathing away in a furious burst of steam.

He loved her. She probably didn't love him, how could she? But he loved her, and he wouldn't allow this to stand.

He'd play the game. He'd play along. He'd play the loving nephew and the loyal Death Eater, but when they left, she wouldn't be alive to follow them.

Stepping out of the bathroom, his hand cleaned up and all evidence of his anger suitably concealed, he looked across at Hermione and Pansy. They were both sat on the edge of the bed, their conversation abruptly ending as he entered the room.

Pansy looked at him, smiling weakly. Hermione didn't.

"Put the concealment charm back up when I go. It'll end the moment I lea-" he began.

"She knows how a concealment charm works Malfoy." Hermione spat, her words cutting him and causing him to shrink.

He nodded and moved toward the door. Opening it, he looked back, wanting to say something, but didn't when he saw Pansy shake her head, smiling sadly at him.

Following the voices of Bellatrix and his parents, he moved through the house and stepped into the living room.

"That was fairly quick. I take it you heard back about your mysterious endeavours." Bellatrix said, smiling at him as he walked in.

"Quite, yes. All went rather well." He replied, returning her smile, stamping down his fury, and dropping onto a couch.

"Where's the mudblood?"

"Oh... She's indisposed. We have a guest, you see, upstairs. She's getting better acquainted with Granger and will be down when they're done." He smirked.

"Oh? And who is this guest in my house?" Lucius interjected, sitting forward on his chair.

"A surprise, father. You've met before, and if all goes well, you'll be seeing each other far more often."

"Please tell me it's Parkinson. She's become quite the perfect match for you." Narcissa spoke, glancing across at him. "It would be nice for you to have prospects beyond a filthy mudblood."

He failed at suppressing a chuckle. Pansy, a perfect match for him? Yeah, except the fact she's in a lesbian relationship with one of Voldemort's most troublesome enemies, since the end of the war.

Knowing he failed at suppressing the chuckle, he had to warp it to his ends. "I will neither confirm nor deny such baseless and wild speculation." He smiled back at his mother, her smiling at him, undoubtedly confident in her belief.

"Pansy Parkinson?" Bellatrix asked the room, a question Draco replied to first with a quick nod, before speaking.

"That's mother's guess, yes."

"You would be lucky. I've met Pansy a few times. Quite the rising star in the W.I. Skilled, powerful, ruthless. I've heard she's being considered for a promotion -- making her a Silver Hand." Bellatrix said, leaning back on her chair and readjusting the sleeping toddler weighing her down.

"Really? Well, she'll be thrilled." Draco replied.

He'd heard of Silver Hands. Members of the W.I. trusted enough to deal with very sensitive issues. Not that trusted though. The rumour is that they are so called because they have one of their hands replaced with one of cursed silver -- silver that can sense disloyalty and, apparently, kill the person to which they are attached.

So if Pansy was in line for a promotion, her time as a mole in the W.I. would be coming to an end.

His eyes rested on Delphini, watching her sleep. It was funny. Things were moving so quickly. Seven days ago he was about to kill himself, now he wanted nothing but to keep living. Seven days ago, before she arrived, Hermione had been an old rival, and one he thought dead -- now, he loved her, and would do anything to keep her safe and happy. A few days ago, he'd thought their plans against Voldemort were a longshot at best, but now, with the Remnant, he was hopeful. A few hours ago he'd had misgivings about taking Delphini from her mother, but now, after hearing what Bellatrix had had done to Hermione, he not only was happy to take her, but didn't plan to leave until Bellatrix was dead.

His life had gone from one speed to another so rapidly that he barely had time to process, but he was sure of a few things. He wouldn't allow Bellatrix to harm even a single hair on Hermione's head, ever again, and that he would save that child from whatever twisted future her parents had planned for her.

His eyes shifted up to Bellatrix, and images flashed through his mind. Images of Hermione murdering her.

He hated it.

Hermione had killed, he knew that. At the Battle of Hogwarts, she'd been responsible for a few deaths, but none of those were murder -- they were reflex actions in a kill or be killed scenario. Killing Bellatrix? That would be murder. It would have to be. They couldn't risk giving her the ability to fight back, as they would likely lose. No. Bellatrix would need to be killed while she was unarmed and unable to defend herself.

Bellatrix would need to be murdered... And he couldn't stand the notion of Hermione becoming a murderer.

It was roughly half an hour before Hermione walked in, her appearance back to exactly how it had been before, complete with hollow, vacant smile. Behind her came Pansy, having replaced her more combat ready ensemble with a short, mottled silver dress. She looked stunning, he had to admit.

"Pansy." Bellatrix smiled, seeing them first given her vantage on the door.

"Bellatrix. Lovely to see you. Narcissa, Lucius, you as well, of course... And little Delphini." Pansy replied, walking in, a wide smile on her face.

She dropped down on Draco's left, placing her hand on his lap while Hermione sat on his right, close enough for his arm to press against his, placing her the furthest away from Bellatrix.

"So, has Draco told you our news?" She asked, looking across at him, before back to Bellatrix.

"No. He was being very cagey about everything."

"Well, since we met up again, we've rather rekindled our relationship." Pansy smiled, rubbing his leg slightly. "Isn't that that right, Draco?"

"Yeah. I realized, after seeing her just the other day, that I'd been so invested in my research that I'd rather neglected my social life. Seeing Pansy again, well, it reminded me of all the things I was missing. I can't very well build a future on nothing but books." He replied, smiling back at her, and looking out across Bellatrix and his parents.

"Well, I for one am glad you'll be spending more time with someone of value -- instead of this mudblood." Lucius sneered.

"Well, Granger certainly has value." Pansy replied, chuckling. Her implication not lost on Bellatrix who sniggered in response.

"I was worried that you wouldn't be able to get here until much later." Draco said.

"Well, honestly, I shouldn't have been. But when I got your owl," Pansy began, substituting the protean charmed coin with an owl, "I just had to. So I called in a favour with my Silver Hand. Turns out that saving him from being bloodied up by a very unhappy centaur the other week earned me a few hours off."

"Well, I hope you punished the centaur for daring to touch a wizard." Lucius replied.

"Oh, very much so. He won't be eating solid food for a while. I would have killed the thing, but my Silver Hand stopped me."

The conversation shifted periodically over the night, from Pansy's possible promotion, to her parents, then eventually to more political happenings, and current affairs. His father did so enjoy the latter talking points, using his position in the Ministry to great use in forwarding the family's interests.

Draco could barely remember anything that was said. He retained enough information to join the conversation on occasion, but for the most part he just wanted the day to end. He wanted to get Hermione out from under the curse again and do whatever he could to help her. Of course, Bellatrix couldn't allow the evening the go without embarrassing Hermione again.

They spoke for hours, the group, until Bellatrix spoke up.

"I tell you what, how about some entertainment. Get the mudblood to do something." She smirked.

Draco went to speak, to ask what. Luckily Pansy interrupted him, as whatever suggestion Bellatrix would have would likely have been terrible.

"What a good idea." She began, turning to look at Granger. "The Imperius Curse means we needn't worry about her many failings." She continued, referring to the fact that the curse would provide the victim the skills required to perform their tasks. "Sing for us, Granger."

Hermione looked across, her vacant smile widening as she heard her instruction. "Sing what? I don't really know many songs."

"Whatever you want."

"Oh, okay."

He turned and watched as she got up and moved closer to the door. He knew she'd be really embarrassed after the curse was lifted, but this was undoubtedly better than what Bellatrix had had in mind.

She cleared her throat and loosened her limbs.

"I got two strong arms

Blessings of Babylon

Time to carry on and try

For sins and false alarms

So to America the brave

Wise men save." She began, her voice clear and flawless. He didn't know if that was due to the spell or not, but it was pleasant to hear.

"Near a tree by a river

There's a hole in the ground

Where an old man of Aran

Goes around and around

And his mind is a beacon

In the veil of the night

For a strange kind of fashion

There's a wrong and a right

But he'll never, never fight over you.

I got plans for us

Nights in the scullery

And days instead of me

I only know what to discuss

Oh, for anything but light

Wise men fighting over you."

He didn't recognise the song, and he knew most, leading him to believe it must have been a Muggle one. She continued singing the entire song, he assumed, without a single mistake. Even whistling a good portion, the notes flawlessly executed. Her voice was perfect the entire way through and he couldn't help but be enamoured. Finally, as the last word left her lips, her vacant smile reappeared, and she simply sat down beside him again.

"What was that?" Pansy asked.

"Oh, it's called The Riddle. A Muggle song. No idea what it's about, I don't think anyone does, but I like it and it was the first one that popped into my head." Hermione replied, smiling.

"Well... It wasn't what I had expected. But, it was pleasant." Pansy said, looking around the room afterwards. He watched as her eyes settled on the clock. "Oh, wow, it's gotten late. I need to head to bed. Coming Draco... Granger?" She announced, standing up and looking down at him.

"Can't very well pass up that invitation, now can I. Come along Granger." He agreed, getting to his feet. "It's lovely having you here Bellatrix. I'll see you all in the morning."

It took a few minutes before he finally managed to leave the room and head upstairs, having to exchange pleasantries and receive disturbing glances from Bellatrix, but soon enough he was closing the door to his bedroom again and casting a concealment charm, sound proofing the room.

He went to end the curse holding Hermione, only to remember that she must be be under one cast by Pansy, as she still had her freewill when he'd left the room earlier. So, looking at Pansy, and nodding that the charm had taken, he watched as she released her curse.

The moment he saw Hermione's eyes show the sharpness that only came with her freewill, he immediately shrank as she played them over him. He didn't say anything, he couldn't even look her in the eye. He knew her anger at him was misplaced, but that didn't make it any less real. She was furious, and she was hurt, and she had every right to be. He knew that, deep down, she wasn't angry at him, that he was simply the only available target, and that if the only thing he could do to help was to let her be angry at him, then so be it.

"Singing, huh? Well, better than whatever that twisted bitch likely had in mind." She muttered, turning and heading over to the couch.

"Did- did you tell Pansy why we asked her here?" He asked, as she sat down, receiving a head shake in response.

"No. We... We talked about other things, so, feel free to fill me in." Pansy concurred.

"Fair enough." Draco began, moving over to sit on the bed, pretty sure Hermione didn't want him next to her right now. "It's Delphini." He continued, getting a quizzical glance in response. "We're taking her. We were going to wait here, and then finally show our hand by taking out Nagini or something but... Hermione raised an inescapable point. We can't leave Delphini with Bellatrix and him as parents. I mean, look at what our parents turned us into, we need to save her from that."

The looks of concerned shock on Pansy's face only stayed for a moment before she spoke. "Well," she paced slightly, trying to find somewhere she could stand where both of them could see her, not an easy task given how Hermione had distanced herself, "I don't disagree. The longer that little girl is under their care the more damage will be done to her, but... Have you thought this through?"

"No." Hermione replied, not looking across, simply replying to the room. "No, we haven't, but it still needs to be done, and our timetable is limited, possibly smaller that we even suspect. We need to get it done, sooner rather than later."

"I see. Well, apparating is out. That's too dangerous to do with a toddler-" Pansy began.

"No, I know. Partly why I plan on going to London tomorrow. I'm going to get a tent, an extended bag, and two brooms. I'm a good flyer, and I'm pretty sure Hermione is a natural at it, like everything else she tries." Draco interrupted.

"Actually, I suck I flying. I mean, I can do it if the situation calls for it, but I'm not very good."

"Really? Oh, well, either way, it was the only way I could think of getting us away from here."

"So, what, take Delphini, fly off, and hope you get far enough away before Bellatrix notices?" Pansy asked, not mockingly, more out of actual curiousity as to their plan.

"No. I'm not leaving here until she's dead." He replied without hesitation. 

"I'm going to kill her." Hermione said, her voice level, her tone as if she was stating fact, as she finally turned to look at them both.

Her eyes rested on Draco just as he winced at the notion of her doing as she claimed.

"What? You don't think I should kill her?" Hermione asked, her tone shifting instantly to one of aggression, her arms tightening.

"No, it's not... I-"

"It's what?!"

"Look, what do you know about what happened at the top of the Astronomy Tower?" He asked, her tone cutting him.

"What?" She snapped, seemingly infuriated by the random, in her eyes, segue.

"Snape killed Dumbledore so I wouldn't have to. He- neither of them wanted me to become a murderer so Snape became one so I wouldn't have to." He said, stopping her as she went to reply by continuing, "I've studied a lot of dark magic... Murdering someone changes you. It breaks you, it... It takes something away. You... You've already had so much taken from you by that woman, and by the Dark Lord, I don't want them to take that from you too."

"That's ridiculous, Draco-" Hermione began, only for Pansy to cut her off.

"It's really not." She said, both him and Hermione looking across at her. "I..." She looked away, before steadying her breathing and looking back. "I've only ever told Lavender this, and I... I thought it would cost me her, that I would ruin everything, but she- well, she's amazing. Better than I deserve. But, a while before I met her and the Remnant, back when I was finishing my Inquisitor training, my supervisor took me and the initiates in my squad and tasked us with tracking down these two folks that had openly voiced their animosity at the new regime. Um," He could hear her voice starting to crack slight, and she was shifting uncomfortably. "Um we, we found them. It was a married couple, husband and wife. We found them and my supervisor he- he instructed us to um, to seal them in. So we did. We sealed the doors and windows, no one in, no one out. He made it so they couldn't apparate... They, they were trapped there. All good, you know, all ready for processing. But, well, he looks at me -- me being his prized pupil, and told me to..." She stopped. He could see her blinking back tears, and chewing her tongue nervously. "He told me to burn the house down, with them inside." She wiped her nose and sniffed, before letting out a single, dry, humourless, laugh. "I- I couldn't refuse. If I had he- he probably would have just done it anyway... And if I'd tried to stop him, he would have killed me, and done it anyway, so... So, I..."

"Pansy-" Hermione began, Pansy silencing her with a raised hand.

"Oh, it gets better." She quipped, "So I did it. I burned the house to the ground. I hoped the flames would drown out the screams but... But they didn't. I heard everything. His screams, her screams..." She began crying at this point, her voice changing to one of hoarse scratching, "and the screams of their two children. So... So, it's not ridiculous. I- I would give anything... Anything to go back and die there, rather than do what I did."

He went to move toward her, but Hermione got there first. She crossed the distance in a flash and took Pansy into her arms, their situation now reversed from the last time he'd seen them like this.

"Pansy, you didn't have a choice." He said.

"He's right. You- you had no choice."

"No." Pansy replied, lightly pushing Hermione back. "No, I had a choice, and I chose wrong. Draco, he- just, don't be so willing to give up one of the things they've yet to take."

"I've killed before-" Hermione protested.

"Yeah. In a fight. This won't be that. This can't be that. We can't give Bellatrix the chance to fight, because she'll win. She's one of the best duellists in the world. If we fight her, we lose. This... This will be murder. It will have to be. Now- now I'm not going to stop you. If anyone has the right to kill that woman, it's you. I just... I would rather you let me do it. Let me honour what Snape did for me, by doing the same for you." Draco explained, not trying to sound patronising, but fearing his was.

"Nobody is going to tell you what to do, Hermione. Just... Think on it, please."

Hermione stood there, silent for a moment, before nodding and turning to sit on the bed next to him, a closeness he hadn't expected.

"There is one thing that I need to ask, as neither of you seem to have mentioned it, and I'm not trying to talk you out of taking little Delphi, as I'm with you on that. The sooner she's away from those two, the better, but... Are you two really okay with being parents?" Pansy asked.

"What? Oh, no." Draco replied, chuckling lightly.

"Yeah, no. No. I mean we couldn't, we're not... No. I mean, I'd happily, happily, help out but no. We kind of assumed that, well, Poppy or-" Hermione began, stopping when they both saw Pansy shaking her head, an apologetic look in her eyes.

"Uh, that's not going to work." Pansy smiled awkwardly. "I mean, everyone there will help as much as they can but, well, there aren't that many of us, and most of us are field operatives, if you like. We need to be ready to go at a moment's notice to act on whatever information we get. Rolanda, Oliver, they're some of our best. Poppy, well she's our only medic really so she's on-"

"Triage." Draco muttered.

"Exactly. I- I'm all for getting Delphini out of here, really I am, and everyone of the Remnant would just love her, and do whatever they could to help but... If you take her, she's your responsibility. You guys will need to raise her." She finished, looking over him and then Hermione.

"What? But we can't possibly do that. I'm, I'm a mess. I don't even know my own mind half the time, how am I supposed to mold a child's? Plus, I still need to source a copy of that book, and figure out how to get rid of Nagini, which will be even harder once we do this because he'll be on the defensive. We can't leave Delphini with them, but we can't-" Hermione began, before Draco interrupted her.

"I'll do it." He said, his mind locking in on the only way it could happen. The decision being made easier by the fact he was already related to Delphini. "I'll be the only actual family she has there, and I would have been responsible for tearing her away from the rest. She's my responsibility." He looked up at Pansy, and then across at Hermione, not recognising the look in her eyes. "I mean, I can't promise I'll be good at it. I- I don't even have anyone to model my parenting off of but-"

"But you know what not to do." Hermione said, a warm, albeit small, smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"You better than most." Pansy agreed. "Plus, like I said, the rest of Remnant, myself and Lav included, will do whatever we can to help. You won't be alone."

He felt Hermione shift in the bed beside him, not much, but enough that her shoulder was now touching his as they sat next to one another.

A few more minutes passed before Pansy excused herself to the bathroom, opting for a shower before spending the night. She had asked Draco if he would prefer she left, but both he and Hermione had agreed that it was best she stayed. Upon hearing the door close and the shower start up, he went to say something to Hermione, but decided against it -- not really knowing what to say. He heard her sigh before she shifted and stood up, moving toward the wardrobe.

"Come on. The sooner we get to sleep, the sooner this day ends." She said, looking back at him. The sadness was still in her eyes, as was the simmering anger, but it wasn't directed at him anymore.

"Yeah. Head to London tomorrow. Get out of this house for as long as humanly possible." He replied, casually mentioning his plan for them for tomorrow.

She nodded, and pulled her jumper off, over her head before pulling the wardrobe open. He moved to his wardrobe and set about shedding his clothing and pulling on pajamas. Each was obscured, mostly, from the other by the wardrobe doors, but Hermione was dressed first, and she immediately closed her door and took a few steps back to watch him pull his top on and set about buttoning it up.

He didn't mind her looking, and so he kicked his the wardrobe door closed and turned to walk back toward the bed as he button the shirt down.

"Look, Draco, I-" she began, him stopping in his tracks and fastening the last button. "I'm sorry, about before. About how I lashed out at you. I-"

"You don't need to apologize, Hermione."

"Yes. Yes I do. I know you're not like them, not like the rest of your family... I know, and I accused of it anyway."

"You were angry. Hurt. And rightfully so. You don't need to explain." He said, sincere in his assertion that she didn't need to apologize.

"Yes, but I loosed it at you. One of the only people I have left and... And someone I care about. I- I shouldn't have done that. I know you know I didn't mean. And I know you mean it when you say that I don't need to apologize, but I want to. For me. I need to apologize."

"Fine." He smiled, moving across and putting his hands on her shoulders, relieved when she didn't shrink from his touch. "Thank you. Hermione."

She smiled up at him and nodded slightly as he slowly removed his hands from her.

"You know..." She turned away, seemingly unable to look at him for some reason, though she disguised it as moving toward the couch. "I'm, and I know this doesn't really mean anything but... I'm proud of you."

He recoiled slightly out of surprise. "What? Why?"

"The whole Delphi thing. When Pansy said that we'd need to, you know, raise her, I went on the defensive, as I assumed you would too. My mind just kept coming up with all the reasons we couldn't, shouldn't, do that." She tuned back to look at him. "But you didn't. You just... You just took it. Just like that, making a decision that will influence the rest of your life, and making it instantly, because it was the right thing to do. Not for you, but for her. I... I'm proud of you." She smiled shyly, him seeing the same look as before in her eyes, the one he hadn't been able to identify, before she looked down, seemingly embarrassed.

Was that what look had been? Pride?

It took a few moments for him to really come to terms with how good it felt, having someone, especially her, be proud of him. A smile pulled at his face. Not one of amusement, but one of honest, sincere happiness, and he couldn't shake it.

"What?" She asked, looking back up at him.

"Nothing." He replied, still smiling, though shaking his head.

"No. What?"

"I just- you said it wouldn't mean anything, but it does. I-" He chuckled. "Fuck I'm pathetic." He laughed, looking away, and sitting back on the side of the bed. "I- I have no idea how to be a parent." He said, once again voicing his worries. "I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Hey," she replied, moving back over and sitting beside him. "We'll figure it out. We're both pretty smart, and, well, I'm smarter, but you're not supid by any lengths." She sniggered, jostling him. "We'll figure it out together. I mean, if Bellatrix can do it."

He smiled at her, putting her arm around her as she leaned onto him.

"You don't have to. She's my cousin. She's my blood. You- you have no ties to her, no obligation to her-"

"Except you." She interrupted, looking up at him.

He angled his head to look at her, and she surprised by craning up and kissing him. Not deeply. Not passionately. Just a simple kiss, and it made everything seem right.

"I suppose we should go baby shopping tomorrow... Or, toddler shopping." Hermione continued, leaning back into him.

"Shit. Yeah. I assume we'll take everything Bellatrix has, but that won't be much. What will we need?" He replied.

They spent the next few minutes, while waiting for Pansy to finish in the shower -- something that took a while, as she certainly liked to take the time to relax while in there, talking about what they thought they'd need to look after a toddler. By the end, he thought they had a good handle on things, but was also certain they had hilariously underestimated the challenge ahead of them.

The door to the bathroom opened and Pansy stepped out, her hair wrapped in a towel, and another wrapped around her body.

"Your shower is amazing." She began, pausing when she looked over and saw them, as he now realized they were, cuddled up together, sitting on the side of the bed.

"Yeah, it is." Hermione replied, either expertly breaking the tension, or never realising there was any there in the first place. "What do you think we'll need to buy tomorrow, for Delphini?" She asked, sitting up, extracting herself from Draco's arms.

"Oh, um," Pansy began, reaching up to unwrap her hair before rubbing it dry with the towel. "I don't know. Clothes? Books, I guess, read to her. Umm, a bed of some description. I mean, I'll send forewarning to the Remnants to expect you to be bringing her, but the more you can take the better. Nappies? Is she still in nappies? I don't really understand kids, or how fast they grow. Toys, definitely toys..." Her words trailed off.

Hermione nodded along before Draco finally spoke. "Yeah, that's kind of what we had listed, too."

"Right. It's getting late, and I'd like today to be over. Where do you want to sleep?" Hermione asked, looking at Pansy.

Pansy's eyes shifted rapidly between the two of them before she answered. "I'm happy on the couch."

"Nonsense. You can take the bed." Draco replied, getting up. "You have work tomorrow."

"Honestly, Draco, I'm happy with the couch..." She began, stepping passed the two of them, "and I'm not blind."

"What? No. There-" Hermione went to say before Pansy interrupted her.

"I'm not saying anything... But I'll sleep on the couch. Can I... Can I borrow a nightdress?"

"Of course." Hermione replied, somewhat blustered.

"I'll go get myself sorted. Give you chance to change." Draco said, moving for the bathroom.

"Cheers. Though, it's nothing you haven't seen before." Pansy replied.

He didn't quite know how to reply, so he just stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

Freshening himself up, cleaning his teeth, and ticking all the pre-bed boxes, he pulled the door open and stepped back out to see Pansy floating bedding down onto the couch.

Hermione looked across at him, smiled briefly, and then headed toward him, bound for the bathroom. He moved, not only out of her way, but toward the bed and Pansy.

Hermione disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking closed, and he immediately felt Pansy's eyes on him, pulling him to look over at her. Her expression was one of confusion, and demand for answers.

"What?" He asked, not sure as to what thought had snagged in her mind.

"Don't what me. What's the deal with you and Granger?" She asked, lowering the pillow into place before standing straight and looking at him.

"I..." He sighed, wracking his brain, "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" She asked rhetorically. "You two are obviously..." She let her words trail, instead option to simply press the palms of her hands together. "That much is obvious. But, have you told her how you feel?"

"She already knows. She was there, she heard what I said... But she hasn't... You know, reciprocated, or even spoken about it since. So, I guess I'm just sort of a... Vent, a..."

"What, Hermione Granger's fuck toy?" She replied incredulously. "Does Hermione Granger strike you as the sort of girl that would have casual sex?"

"She's changed, she's been through a lot-"

"Hermione Granger... Having a fuckbuddy. Yeah, I don't think so." She interrupted, careful to keep her voice low. "Also, I didn't ask if she knew how you felt, I asked if you told her."

"She was there-"

"Draco. There's a difference between her knowing how you feel, because you blurted it out while under the effects of a mind altering substance, and you actively telling her how you feel." She began, seemingly aghast at the fact her didn't see the difference. "Yes, she knows how you feel, but she doesn't know if you want to feel that way. You haven't told her-" she paused as the door began to open, "You should, and soon."

Hermione stepped back into the room, and Draco felt her eyes on him and then saw them shift to Pansy. "What are you two talking about?"

"Oh, just things we need to get done. Anyway, it's late." Pansy replied, smiling and moving over to climb into her makeshift bed.

It wasn't long until he was laying on his back, in a darkened room, looking up at the ceiling and wondering if she was right. Her felt as Hermione shifted beside him, and ran her hand across his chest to rest it there. 

He didn't say anything, wanting to let her get to sleep as smoothly as she could, given her current mental state, but the fact she still came to him for comfort made him smile.


	12. Chapter 12

[[[ So sorry for the delay. The only excuse I can offer is that my depression has been a complete bitch of late and I lost all motivation to do anything. Still, it seems to have eased now and I finally got this part done. I hope you enjoy it, and sorry again for the wait. ]]]

**__________**

**Part Twelve.**

She couldn't get him off. She couldn't make him stop. She couldn't see who he was, but she could feel him.

Opening her eyes, she was back in the camp in Wales. Looming over her naked body was a man, though she could see none of his features. He seemed to be made of shadow, just a featureless silhouette. She could feel him though, feel his vice like grip on her wrists as he pinned her hands above her head. Feel his other hand pulling her legs apart, all of her strength seeming not to matter in the least to him. She could feel the heat of his breath on her face, and the cruelty behind his invisible eyes.

She cried out again, hearing her tortured wail, and hearing his gravel like laugh in response as she felt him roughly drive himself into her.

Another pair of hands, grabbed her shoulder -- no just one hand. The grip on her wrists vanished as she swung out, crying, screaming, cursing the figure on top of her.

"Hermione." 

Her eyes opened again to nothing but darkness, the figure from before looming entirely over her, blocking out everything else. She lashed out again, her hand finally hitting something, only for the wrist to be grabbed again, albeit lighter than before.

"Hermione. It's me." She heard again, the voice familiar.

She blinked. The darkness resolving as her eyes adjusted. It wasn't the figure, it was the dark of night. The grip on her wrist wasn't the figure, it was Draco.

The figure hadn't been real, just a creation of her mind. The tears on her face were real, however. The pounding in her chest was real, and the heartbreak was real.

"Hermione, you're safe. It was a dream, it was a dream." He said again as another sob tore from her and she rolled toward him, pushing her face into his shoulder.

She willed herself to calm down, but found it far easier to think it, than to actually do it. She knew Draco was waiting, wide awake, for her to talk... To vent... But she didn't want to. She didn't want to talk about it, she just wanted to sleep. 

Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply, Draco's scent filling her nostrils and, though she could still hardly believe it, calming her. She laid there, just breathing, until she fell again into the depths of sleep.

She hadn't checked the clock when she'd woken up earlier, but she assumed hours had passed before she woke up again. She woke up naturally this time, calmly, as her body and mind roused itself from its slumber. It was still dark, but it was winter, so it was always dark in the mornings. 

She was still laid facing Draco, and could feel his skin under her touch. At some point over the night her hand had slipped up under his pajama top, and she could even feel the faint line of one of his scars under her fingers.

"Are you awake?" She asked quietly, absentmindedly tracing her middle finger along the scar she felt.

"I am." Came his quiet reply, his voice barely a whisper.

"I- I'm sorry about last-" 

"'Mione. I will talk about whatever you want. I'll do whatever you like... But stop apologizing to me." He interrupted, his arm that was wrapped around her pulling her in tighter.

She exhaled a slight chuckle through her nose, and allowed herself to be pulled in.

"I mean it. Whatever you need." He said, echoing his earlier sentiment.

"I know." She replied. "And- and I do appreciate it. Really. I- despite never imagining this life for myself, I- I don't hate it. I quite... I like being with you." She stammered, struggling to put her feelings into words, especially given how much of a mess her emotions were at present, but the smell of him, and feeling of him under her fingers, and around her, eased them slightly.

"I, well," He began, before she felt his chest rise as he took an uncharacteristically deep breath. "You already know how..." His voice trailing off, shaking his head slightly.

"What?" She asked, shifting and sitting up, hoping he was about to say what she thought he was.

"I... Can we continue this after Pansy has gone?" He concluded, his voice quiet.

"Pansy?" She asked, suddenly remembering the woman asleep just the other side of the headboard.

She peered over, seeing her laying on the couch, eyes closed, pretending to sleep. The fact she was holding her breath being the only give away.

"Pansy." Hermione said again. "Sleeping people don't hold their breath." 

She watched as Pansy's expression shifted to a pained smile as one eyes opened. "I didn't want to interrupt."

She heard Draco chuckle as he sat up, "Yeah, I'm sure that was it. It's getting on, anyway, Whittle will be here soon to call us down for breakfast. What, uh, what time do you start work?" He asked as she watched him swing his legs out of the bed and stand up.

"More than enough time to have breakfast, besides, if I'm there, perhaps Bellatrix will ease up off you." Pansy replied, sitting up, and nodding toward her.

"The less I have to deal with that woman, the better. Plus, Whittle makes amazing breakfasts, and we owe you for yesterday." Hermione said, not getting up herself, as it would take a fair while for both Draco and Pansy to be done in the bathroom.

"You don't owe me anything, but I won't turn down a good breakfast."

Draco gestured, and Pansy moved into the bathroom first, the door closing behind her. Hermione smiled slightly at him before swinging herself off of the bed and padding over to the windows. Checking outside, the weather was not exactly shopping friendly. It was raining, again, and the wind looked unpleasant -- not overtly strong by any means, but just unpleasant when combined with the rain.

"It's miserable out," she said over her shoulder, "better dress appropriately." Allowing the curtain to fall, she turned back to see Draco simply looking at her. "What?"

"Nothing." He replied, smiling before turning to his wardrobe. "So, typical English weather, yeah?"

"Yeah. Dress for an English summer." She sniggered, sweeping across to her wardrobe.

Whittle had done a brilliant job of sourcing clothing for nearly any eventually, and Hermione could swear there was more in here than she'd originally unpacked after Whittle had bought them.

"Has Whittle been adding clothes in here?" She asked, pulling out a few warmer items that she didn't recall seeing before.

"I wouldn't put it passed her." He replied, calling around his open wardrobe door.

She reached in, grabbed a pair of dark jeans, a grey v-neck jumper, a deep purple scarf, and a black woollen hat. That combined with her coat and boots from the other day, and she should be plenty warm, and look acceptable on the arm of Draco Malfoy.

It was strange. Originally she dressed a certain way just to avoid attention, and to look as though she was representing the Malfoy family. But now, now she rather liked dressing in a way that suited him. Still, she always added a bit of herself to her clothing choices, or would now anyway, seeing as they were about to show their hand in a rather spectacular way. That being said, and despite how nice the clothes Whittle had bought were, she was rather looking forward to buying her own clothes again -- to inject a little more Granger into her Malfoy-esque wardrobe.

"Seeing as we're shopping pretty much all day. Can I get some clothes? I mean, I have plenty, but I'd like some that a bit more me, and bit less... You." She asked, pulling out some underwear and closing the door.

"Of course. You needn't ask."

"Well, I kind of do actually. I have no money, pretty sure my vault at Gringotts would have been emptied after the war. So, I'll need your money."

"And I have far more than I will ever need. So, you needn't ask." He replied, closing his door, a fairly predictable, but still really good looking outfit draped over his arm. "Besides, if it's mine, it's yours."

The door the bathroom opened before she could reply, and Pansy stepped out, dressed in her Inquisitorial uniform. Even knowing Pansy was on her side, Hermione couldn't help but feel intimidated. The entire outfit just oozed lethality.

"Next." She said brightly, briefly rubbing the back of her neck.

"You're up." Draco smiled, gesturing for her to go first, an invitation which she took. 

The shower was amazing, as usual, and after shaving, drying, and sorting herself, she pulled on the outfit she had sourced, with the obvious exception of the scarf and hat. Pulling the door open, she stepped out and allowed Draco in, catching a loaded look from Pansy the moment he stepped inside.

"What?" She asked, cocking her head slightly as she threw her nightdress onto the bed.

"Don't what me." Pansy smiled. "What are you going to do when he says what you know he's going to?"

Her stomach knotted in an instant, and her heart began pounding in her ears. She'd gone from calm and relaxed to the opposite, in an instant.

"I- I- I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Don't play dumb, Granger." She replied, her smile a sincere one. "You heard what he said, at the camp, just as clearly as I did, and we both know what your face did when you heard it."

"It's not as easy as all that..." She began, her voice low, a note of fear in there. There was so much more to how he felt about her, and how she felt about him. She had no idea if what she felt, or what he felt was real. Their circumstances were strained, and she feared that they only felt the way they did because of them.

"Of course it isn't. Nothing ever is, especially not now. You think that I fell for Lavender because it was easy? I wasn't asked how I wanted to feel, my body told me how I felt and I had to deal with it." Pansy said, moving around and sitting on the unmade bed.

"I know, I just... I don't-"

Pansy smiled apologetically and put her hands up. "You know what? Forget I said anything, I- I shouldn't have said anything. I just, kind of excited... That being said, don't let me influence your decisions... I shouldn't have said anything really. Sorry, I just. You seemed so... Happy, I guess, when you heard what he said. Sure it only lasted for a minute, before you went all ballistic on us, and purged him of the serum -- quite rightly so, as well, I just... I like the idea of you guys being happy. I never thought Draco would be on the right side, or that you would ever be free again. Then I find out that both of those have happened, and that you two seem to- well. I've gotten a bit mushy since getting with Lav, that's no excuse though." She said, standing up and playing her wand over the bed, making it neatly. "You um, you look great, by the way."

Hermione laughed lightly, quietly, "And you look... Deadly."

"Yeah, the W.I. are a bunch of scum, nigh-entirely, but they look great." She replied, looking down at her outfit.

"So, this Silver Hand thing? I take it that's bad?"

"Yes. The moment they decide to make my promotion a thing... Well, I can't let it happen. It seems I was too good an Inquisitor and not a very good spy for the Remnant. Not great really. If I'd had any foresight I would have been a bit worse, that way I could have stayed in the W.I. longer, but... Too late for that now."

"Well, you're involved with us now. You'll be suspected the moment we make our move. You protecting us has already lead to your exposure. There's no way they'll believe you didn't know anything, even if you only appeared on the scene a day or two before we acted. No, it uh, it wouldn't be safe for you in the W.I. after we act, promotion or not. You're too close to Draco, and the Dark Lord would, knowing him, rather just murder potential variables, than give them the benefit of the doubt." She replied, playing her wand over her hair, taming it.

"I hadn't thought about that, but yeah. I guess I'll become a full time resident of the Remnant, same as you. Get more time with Lav, at least, and it'll be nice not having to rub shoulders with those fascists." 

The door opened at the same time as a knock came from the bedroom door, Draco stepping out, "Thank you, Whittle. We'll be down shortly!" He called before turning to face them, looking as smart and made up as ever. He looked fantastic in a suit, and she honestly couldn't believe she hadn't noticed how good looking he was when they were at school. "We all set?"

She nodded, Pansy humming her agreement.

"Do you... Do you want under?" He asked, looking at her and slowly reaching for his wand.

"Better do, yeah." She replied, awaiting the eventual wash of happiness to wipe her mind clean.

"It's only breakfast, and I'll be there. I- I think maybe you could risk it. I mean, do whatever makes you feel comfortable, Bellatrix is a lot, but... Yeah, we could probably run plenty of inference." Pansy interjected, stepping forward.

"I'd prefer not to, of course. It's not fun having your free will yanked away and replaced by drunk happiness, but... That woman just... She's a monster." Hermione responded, appreciating the sentiment, but still dubious.

"Well, I know what you mean, honestly now, thanks to you, and I'll put you under if you want. I'd prefer not to, but, it's your call." Draco said.

"What do you mean?" Pansy quizzed, snagging on Draco's comment.

"I had Hermione put me under the Imperius Curse yesterday, so I could understand what it felt like... It's not great. You feel helpless, powerless, but... Well, you don't care. Everything is great, despite everything being horrible."

"Damn. That was... That was a hell of a leap." Pansy said, a shocked expression on her face.

"No more than what she does every day."

"I appreciate what you mean but, I'd rather be put under. We're so close to actually doing something, I'd hate to blow all of that because I got cocky one breakfast." She interrupted, reaffirming her choice.

"Okay. I'll uh, speak to you soon." He said, raising his wand toward her. "Imperio."

She smiled at him. "Shall we go to breakfast?"

He returned her smile, though she could see the sadness in his eyes. "Yeah. Pansy, shall we?"

The trio descended from Draco's room, he and Pansy getting closer, and Draco putting his arm around her shoulder just before they walked in.

"Morning everyone." Pansy called out, smiling as the assembled looked across to see her in her full Inquisitorial attire.

"Good morning." Lucius and Narcissa echoed, before Bellatrix took a sip of her coffee and looked over. "Morning."

Hermione watched as Draco slipped his arm from Pansy and moved across to gently tickle Delphini under her ear, "And good morning to you, too." He said, Delphini chuckling and taking hold of his hand briefly, before letting it go and returning to making a mess out of her breakfast.

She sat down, leaving a free chair to her left for Draco, Pansy sitting to the left of that, as he prepared three coffees. The meal was as good as usual, Whittle serving up a full English, Hermione assumed at Bellatrix's behest, but nobody complained -- especially not Pansy, who ate hers with a smile on her face, Hermione assuming that a sizable breakfast was a rarity, given her working schedule.

Pansy had been correct, not one of Draco's family, with the exception of Delphini, paid her any attention over breakfast. The conversation instead revolving around Pansy and Draco's faux-relationship, Pansy's assumed promotion, and some of the more esoteric, and Hermione assumed, perhaps even classified dealings of the Inquisition. Delphini looked across at her on occasion, however, happily babbling, Hermione taking the time to interact and bond with the girl as best she could without attracting attention. It wouldn't be too long before she would have to care for the girl as her own, her and Draco being parents, despite neither of them having the foggiest on how to do that, so bonding with her seemed to be a good first step, and one better done sooner rather than later.

Pansy did a remarkable job keeping breakfast short, having to excuse herself fairly quickly to make for the Ministry, and Draco used that as an excuse for them to leave with her, deciding to take the Floo Network together, as they could access Diagon Alley easily from the Ministry.

Entering Draco's room, she felt her will return to her as Draco swiped the curse free of her mind.

"Well, that was painless." She said, enjoying the fact she wasn't suddenly drowned in a torrent of pain and anger. "Thanks for hurrying it along."

"Wish I could take credit for it, but it really is my schedule for the day." Pansy shrugged, smiling.

Hermione crossed the room and grabbed her wand from under her pillow, stuffed it in her waistband and pulling her jumper over to cover it. After, the three moved through the house, Draco informed Whittle to not cook for them, as he doubted they'd be back for dinner, and then retrieved their coats and stepped into the Floo Network, emerging at the Ministry atrium in a flash of green fire.

"Thank you, for last night." She heard Draco say, as he embraced Pansy. She went to do the same, but hauled herself up before she did knowing that, given their location, it would be unwise.

"Yes, thank you. Really." She said, settling for verbal sentiment, but the smile she received from Pansy let her know that she knew how grateful she was.

Waving her off, she and Draco turned and made their way out of the Ministry, soon finding themselves in Diagon Alley. She was looking forward the dropping her facade, and behaving like herself again, but knew that that would need to wait until they were in Muggle London -- Diagon Alley not being a safe place for her at present.

The alley had changed, but not at a casual glance. When she first set foot there, everything seemed the same. It was busy, people were smiling, the shops were active, and it all seemed similar to many of the other times she had been there. When she looked closer however, she noticed things. There were fewer people, no matter how she tried to dress it up, the lack of Muggle borns had had a noticeable impact on the footfall in the alley. The happiness as well, it seemed almost forced. Then there was the presence of authority figures -- during her many previous visits to Diagon Alley, she could hardly recall a handful of times where she'd seen a single member of the MLEP, but now, now there were patrols. The entire area seemed to have a sense of normalcy under threat of punishment to it.

"There are so many Law Enforcement here. Is that normal?" She said softly, her arm hooked around Draco's as they moved down toward the first shop on their list.

"Ever since the end of the war, yeah. The Dark Lord likes to make sure his laws are followed." He replied, keeping his voice low and nodding toward one of the officers that he seemed to recognise, though she did not. The officer nodded back, raising his hand as if to doff his hat, but stopping short, a simple gesture of acknowledgement. "They won't hassle people for no reason, at least not that I've heard of, though my position has its privileges. From what I can tell, they do mean well... If people behave themselves, the Dark Lord won't punish them, I guess is their rationale."

He turned into the Quality Quidditch Supplies, holding the door open for her to follow. She looked around as Draco made immediately for the counter to purchase them two brooms, and she found herself remembering back to how much time Harry had spent either in, or with his nose pressed to the window of, this shop. It was his favourite shop in the Alley, and for good reason. He'd been fantastic on a broom, and more than talented at Quidditch. She found herself absentmindedly perusing the assortment of Quidditch paraphernalia, despite only having a modicum of interest in it herself.

"Hermione." 

She snapped her attention away from the Holyhead Harpies kit she was looking at, and directed it at Draco instead. "Yeah?"

"Got them, we should get going." He began, folding up a parchment receipt. "There'll be delivered to the house, will probably be there before we get back. Is there something else here you want?"

"Oh, no." She replied, before remembering a rather helpful piece of kit they could get. "A broom compass or two might be a good idea, mind."

Draco snapped his fingers, and returned to the counter. She watched as the woman behind the counter picked two compasses from the shelves behind her, and placed them in a paper bag for Draco.

"Good idea. Would have been a might awkward navigating without one." He smiled as he moved back toward her, the pair then stepping back out into the alley.

From there it was a quick jaunt to their next stop, wherein Draco purchased a large extended tent, and bag. The tent was awkward and, even with the magical nature of it causing it to be far smaller, it was still too large for the bag he purchased, requiring him to carry it slung over his shoulder.

"Right. Bag, tent, brooms... I think that's all we need from here, we can head into Muggle London now, unless there's anything else?" He asked as they stepped away from a crowd.

"No. I'd rather like to get somewhere where I can be me again." She replied, casting a glance around her surroundings, making sure they weren't being watched.

He smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that, too. Come on then." He nodded in the direction of the closest exit to the alley, and they set off.

After entering Muggle London, she waited until they had travelled a fair distance from the alley entrance before she dropped her cursed persona.

"Right, so, baby shopping... Or Toddler?" She asked linking her arm through Draco's again and pulling herself in closer to him, before sliding her hand down, taking his, and walking side by side, hand in hand.

"I guess so, yeah. Not too familiar with Muggle London, so might take a while to find stuff." He replied.

"Nonsense." She replied, "You forget, I lived in London, growing up. This way. You've got money right?"

"Yeah, a few thousand. Pretty hazy on how much stuff costs in Muggle money." He replied.

"A few grand?! Yeah, that should cover plenty." She chuckled, finding his ignorance of the Muggle world amusing.

Thanks to her knowledge of London, they soon found themselves surrounded by all manner of shops, her mind hauling up memories from her childhood. Memories of her and her parents walking down this very street. One particular memory, of her father, holding her attention more than most. She paused, looking at a shop, the same shop her father had purchased a pair of movies that she had sat down and watched with him that night. They had been the first movies she'd ever watched that had age ratings higher than she'd been at the time.

"What, do we need to go in there?" 

She returned to the moment, looking back at him. "No. Just remembering stuff. Not important." She replied, continuing down the street and guiding Draco into the first of many clothing and parenting shops.

Draco surprised her over the course of a few hours and a handful of shops by consistently picking out some of the most adorable outfits Hermione could comprehend, along with several books that he insisted they should read to her fairly often, books revolving around the relationship between parent and child, his view being that they would need to overwrite what parental attachments Delphini already had, and replace them with themselves as her parents. 

Hermione had thought of that, but was surprised that Draco had defaulted to the more mundane, perhaps thoughtful, method of doing so. She had been toying with the notion of simply altering Delphini's memories, but she would consult Poppy before doing so as she was unsure if that was wise on a child so young.

"What about this?" 

She looked away from the hanger that she had been looking at, but not focusing on, and cast her eyes over to Draco, him holding a classic plaid colour-block dress. It had bow and braces, and was matched with a long sleeved yellow top.

"Oh my god, Draco, that is gorgeous." She replied, partially embarrassed by how high her voice went as she quickly crossed the distance separating them and took the fabric of the dress between her thumb and fingers. "We can't not get it." She smiled, looking up at him.

"Oh, I was going to get it with or without your approval. She'll look just perfect in this." 

She sniggered, then felt slightly uneasy, as if she was being targeted. She cast her eyes around the shop, seeing no less than three other people looking across at them smiling, and one older woman who seemed to be judging them, most likely due to their age. Hermione scowled at her, Draco following her gaze, the woman turning away as his eyes fell on her as well.

"What was her problem?" He asked.

Her blood was up now. If it wasn't the fact she was a Muggle born, it was the fact she was young, and if it wasn't that there'd surely be something else.

"Oh, just some people can't keep to their own bloody business!" She said loudly, glowering at her, the woman shrinking further and moving behind a clothing rack to break her line of sight.

"Damn, Hermione." He responded, smiling slightly at her.

"Sorry. Just sick of people never leaving other people be." She replied, looking back at him, he anger subsiding swiftly when she saw him standing there, a collection of child's clothes draped over his arm, and a trio books in his hands. He looked every bit the expectant father. In fact, he'd taken to the concept a lot more eagerly than she'd expected.

They remained in the shop for a few more minutes, but found nothing else that took their fancy. So, after paying and placing the items into Draco's expanded bag, they stepped back outside.

The next few shops they visited were more for her than Delphini. She picked out a number of warm jumpers and some tight jeans, a number of of warmer, thicker, pinafore dresses, appropriate tops to match, as well as a pair of comfortable, fur lined, hiking boots -- clothes that were more her taste and less appropriate for a Malfoy, though she took advantage of Draco's wealth, and purchased far higher quality clothing than she could normally afford.

"You hungry, thirsty?" Draco asked, looking across at one of the coffee shops as they stepped back out into the street, Hermione looking at the receipt for her clothing and feeling a sense of guilt and shame as to how much money she had just spent on herself.

"Um, yeah. Why not." She replied, before they both headed in, ordered and sat down at one of the free tables in the otherwise busy shop.

Pulling apart a piece of her Lemon cake with her fork, she popped it in her mouth. Swallowing it, she chased it with a mouthful of Earl Grey before replacing her cup, dabbing her mouth with a paper napkin, and steadying her breathing.

"You uh, you were going to tell me something this morning, but never got around to it. What was it?" She asked, initiating what she suspected, and hoped would be an awkward, but ultimately worthwhile, conversation... If he was going to say what she thought he was.

She watched as he paused mid-drink, before swallowing, placing his cup down, and casting his piercing eyes up into hers. "Yeah. Yeah I did." He began, shifting uneasily. "You remember what I said at the uh," He looked around, noting plenty of Muggles in earshot, "the campsite?"

She swallowed hard, her heart creeping up into her throat as she nodded. "Yeah, I remember."

"Well," he sighed, his eyes dropping, "I- I meant it. I mean... Yeah. I, uh, I've kind of-" he exhaled heavily, "Uh, I love you." 

She watched as he chewed on his lip for a moment, noting the two girls on the table next to them trying, and failing, to listen in, nonchalantly. She went to speak, but he continued before she got chance.

"I don't expect you to feel the same. I mean our history and our circumstances are, well, far from ideal... Especially for you. I just... I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you." He slowly brought his eyes back up to hers, after they had fallen part way through his admission.

The sense of happiness she felt coursing through her was more than she'd felt since her early years at Hogwarts. She had to fight to keep the smile off of her face as she reached a hand across the table to take his. She wanted to simply admit her feelings, but she couldn't, as there was more to it than that. "Draco... I feel the same, but..." She bit her tongue, trying to translate her concerns into words. "I'm just worried it's not real, you know? Like you said, our circumstances are tense, to say the least. We've kind of been forced together, and we're locked in this pressure cooker of hormones, and emotions, and other people's expectations... I- I'm worried that the way I feel is solely because of those circumstances. I don't want to hurt you if, when our circumstances change, which they're soon going to, we find that these feelings weren't real."

His eyes shifted as he processed her words, her reading the understanding and shared concerns in his eyes. His shoulders slumped slightly and he went to speak, but she interrupted him.

"I'm a bit worried that this has all happened as quickly as it has, but-" She began.

"Hermione, you don't-"

"But." She continued, cutting off his interruption, not wanting him to stop what she was going to say -- not something this important. "With that being said, no matter how much I worry that these feelings aren't real... They feel real to me. I- I wasted so much time in the past, waiting for something to happen, only for it to be snatched from me the moment it did. I can't, I won't, make that mistake again." She smiled as she saw the light, the hope, return to Draco's slate eyes. "I can't promise that, when we get out of this, things won't change. I can't promise that neither of us will get hurt, and neither can you, but... I'm willing to risk it if you are." The smile that had crept across his face widened still.

"None of the risks I've taken since you came back into my life have been difficult decisions... Not one. This is no exception." He said, his grip on her fingers tightening.

"Well... I feel the same way, despite never thinking I would. Despite all those years at school. Despite everything... I do love you." She confirmed, her voice breaking. The combination of nerves and relief causing the butterflies in her stomach to somersault. 

She squeezed his hand, as he leaned across the table, her leaning to meet him and kissing briefly, before sitting back down.

She smiled, blushing slightly as she squeezed his hand before withdrawing and picking up her fork. "Just, you know, not as much as this cake." She chuckled, pressing the side of her fork to the cake, cutting another chuck free.

He chuckled, still wearing a smile, as he turned back to his own plate. "Oh, well, obviously." He said, tearing a piece of his carrot cake off with his fork, "Now I have a question. What were you thinking about earlier, when you were staring at that shop?"

"Oh, nothing serious. Just remembered something." She answered, glancing quickly up at him, before returning to her plate again.

"What?"

"My dad, during our first summer holiday from Ho- from School. He took me in there and bought two movies. I was a good deal too young for them at the time, but he let me watch them anyway." She smiled, recounting the memory, pausing to sip her tea. "It was the first time that I watched something that was too old for me. It was a good night. I'd love to see those movies again." She replied, thinking back to her sitting on the couch, eating snacks with her Mum and Dad, and watching the movies.

"Well, why don't we?" He asked.

"You don't have a player, Draco." 

"No, but I'm sure a hotel around here does. We can get the movies, get a hotel room, get snacks, watch the movies and then head home later. The less time we spend in that house, the better."

"What, just get a hotel room to watch movies?" She asked amusedly.

"Why not? My family kind of suck, but the enormous wealth, which I can spend with impunity, has its benefits." 

"You're unbelievable." She chuckled, picking her cup up and drinking.

"Do you want to, or..." He said, not finishing his question, just letting it trail off.

She took another sip of tea before lowering her cup. "You know what... Sure. Why not? It'll be fun to watch you jump out of your skin."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. The first one's a horror, the second... A bit more action focused." She confirmed, assuming Draco's exposure to Muggle entertainment was limited, and that a horror might truly scare him.

"Just hope the shop has them." 

"I imagine they will. They're fairly popular movies." 

Finishing their drinks they moved back down toward the store she had paused at earlier, and stepped inside. It didn't take her too long to find the appropriate section and find the two VHS tapes that she was looking, handing them both to Draco. "There we go, those two. Even managed to find the extended edition of the second one, as well. That was the one my dad showed me." She said, as she watched him look them over.

"In space, no one can hear you scream. Huh... I'm expecting something special from this Alien, with a tagline like that." He mused, "How do these Muggles fit whole movies into these plastic things."

"It is special. The second one, too. The main character, Ripley, she's amazing." She began, almost setting off on a complete description of the story before halting herself. "Still, I won't say too much." 

"Snacks?" Draco said, "Not that I can see any here."

"Oh, they won't sell them here. This place just sells movies and music. There'll be somewhere near here that sells food though."

It took roughly two hours to both find some snacks suitable for watching movies, and find a hotel that Draco considered lavish enough. They may only be watching movies, but he didn't see why they had to do that in anything other than comfort. As they entered the room, the receptionist being thoroughly perplexed by their insistence that they would be checking out the same day, Hermione was impressed by the room. A large TV sat opposite a large, well cushioned sofa, and the bed looked truly inviting, though she knew she wouldn't get the chance to sleep in it, plus she doubted it would be anywhere near as good as the undoubtedly enchanted mattress back at Malfoy Manor.

"I've been thinking. Time's getting on. How about we watch one, then go out for a meal, then come back and watch the other before heading back home." Draco said, closing the door, her turning back to look at him before glancing at the clock.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds good. Though, might find something else to do before we head back." She replied slyly, inclining her head toward the bed.

The look on Draco's face when she announced the thought, was a picture, and she couldn't help but smile.

"Oh really?" He asked, his eyes carving up and down her, sending a shudder of excitement through her.

"Well, if you're not hiding behind the pillows from the scary movies that is." She smirked, walking over to him.

She wrapped her arms around him and, just as he was about to pull her into an embrace, grabbed the video tapes and stepped back, kissing him on the cheek as she went. "Movie first. As you said, time is getting on." She teased.

"Oh, I see how it is." He smirked. Following her over, dropping off the bag and tent as he did.

He dropped down on the couch as she hunkered down in front of the TV, figuring it best she handled the technological stuff, even if it was as simple as inserting a tape and pressing play. The moment the screen flared to life, showing the customary, and annoying, anti-piracy message, she grabbed the remote from the unit top and sat down next to Draco, him instantly putting his arm around her, a motion that pulled her mouth into a smile.

Aiming at the TV, she thumbed the key to increase the volume, and nestled back onto the couch, and into him.

Over the course of the movie, she occasionally looked up at him, trying to gauge his opinion, fearing a look of boredom as the earlier parts of the movie could be considered, by some, to be rather dull. To her relief, however, she didn't see a shred or boredom -- instead seeing interest and mild confusion as his purely magical mind tried to make sense of the truly alien concepts of the retro-advanced technology used in the movie. He didn't jump when Kane was attacked, but then neither had she when she'd first watched it, it was rather predictable. Kane's death, and the emergence of the Chest Burster, had definitely got a reaction though, a reaction that she chuckled about, earning her a rough jostle and Draco, light-heartedly, telling her to shut up.

The second half of the movie, containing the tense game of cat and mouse throughout the Nostromo, with the crew slowly, or in some cases rather brutally, being picked off by the Alien was punctuated by Draco tensing up occasionally and, at the deaths of Parker and Lambert specifically, vocally announcing how stupid the pair were for not getting out of the way, and incinerating the thing. She, and everyone who had ever watched it, shared those sentiments, but not enough to ruin the film for anyone. 

After the credits started rolling, she sat up, pushing the snacks away from them both, and turned to face him. "Well. What do you think?" She asked, looking at him closely, trying to gauge his reaction.

He sat for a second, thinking, before looking back at her. "I wouldn't have risked my life for a cat." 

"Draco!" She exclaimed, slapping him playfully on the arm. "Really, what did you think?"

"There were a few bits I didn't really understand, like Mother and Ash... But no, no I liked it, and... I would happily watch it again, maybe with you running commentary to explain the bits I just don't get." He smiled.

"Yeah, okay." She replied happily, "I'm glad you liked it... You did? You're not lying right?" 

"I am not lying, and I'm kind of looking forward to number two. That, uh, that Alien is kind of terrifying." He chuckled. "Awesome design."

"Yeah. Imagine having one of them as a Patronus, or your Animagus form." She mused, nestling back onto him again.

"Oh, damn, that would be a bit of a game changer, wouldn't it."

"So, anything in particular in mind for dinner?" She asked, clicking the TV and looking at their reflections, not quite believing that she was seeing herself snuggled up to Draco Malfoy.

"No. I was going to head to wherever is closest, and nice, and eat there. Then we can get back and get stuck into the second movie."

"That sounds brilliant. I was worried you'd insisted on some high class restaurant or another, and frankly, I'm just not in the mood for that.. but a random place, then back for another movie? Yeah, that sounds just right." She smiled.

"Shall we get going then?" He asked, pulling his fingers up from draping over her shoulder, and brushing her hair back behind her ear, his finger stroking along her skin, sending sparks through her.

"Yeah." She replied, though was just as happy staying there, and allowing one thing to lead to another.

"Come on then." 

They left the hotel and made for a close by restaurant, one suggested by the receptionist, and were swiftly seated and presented with menus. She enjoyed a salmon dish and a glass of wine, and talked to Draco about a number of varying topics, Draco surprising her at one point and asking her to explain the elements of the movie that had confused him. She couldn't help but laugh when his face went white and he asked if Androids were in the realm of possibility for Muggles, only for him to playfully and embarrassedly tell her to shut up after she stopped giggling and explained how it certainly wasn't.

After their meal, they paid and headed back to the hotel. She took the time to thank the receptionist on the way passed, and soon enough was stepping into their room, allowing the door to swing closed and lock behind them. 

"So," Draco said, her turning to see him slip his suit jacket off and toss it on the bed before unfastening his cufflinks, allowing his cuffs to hang loose. "You said the second one is less horror and more action?" 

She was somewhat taken aback by his question, as seeing him doing what he'd just done had her thinking of abandoning the second film and just getting on the bed, which she had assumed was what he'd been getting at. "Oh, uh, yeah. It's pretty much an allegory of the Vietnam War, really. But, yeah, really good." She answered, pulling her mind out of the delightful gutter to which it had descended.

"I don't, and I'm sure this will come as a surprise, know much about Muggle wars -- well, other than the big two." He replied sarcastically.

"You don't need to be. Let me just head to the loo, then we'll watch it." 

He nodded and flicked the kettle in the room on, snatching two of the complimentary teabags as he did.

She stepped into the bathroom, shut the door and, after using the facilities, stood for a few moments regarding herself in the mirror. 

She smiled, a wide, truly joyful smile. The moment Draco had told her, confessed to her, how he felt, she felt like she could fly. It was ridiculous. A guy that she had listed near the top of her enemies list nine months ago had just confessed his love for her, and she had reciprocated -- honestly reciprocated. Every year of her life since she'd turned eleven had been one huge shift, or one life or death issue after another. She'd honestly thought, when Ron had been killed in front of her, and Harry had fallen at the hand of Voldemort, that her life was over, and yet here she was, alive, and actually daring to imagine a future for herself... A future with Draco Malfoy no less. 

She levelled her expression, pushing the thoughts from her mind, and stepped back out to see Draco waiting on the couch, two cups of tea steaming on the coffee table, and the TV sitting, paused on the Aliens intro.

"Wow. You managed to do it without setting it on fire or cutting yourself. I'm impressed." She faux-mocked, moving over to join him.

"Yes, I'm a dab hand with technology... No, I had the receptionist do it." He laughed, putting his arm out so she could lean back on him as she had done before, and as she did again.

The tea hit the spot, and she fought the urge to quote sections of the movie verbatim, something she was more than capable of doing, not wanting Draco's experience of the film lessened by her copying it. As she suspected, he seemed to enjoy the sequel more, the sentry gun scene in particular, though even her own mother enjoyed that scene, that she wasn't an action movie sort. 

She didn't know if it was, never checked, but the second film always seemed longer than the first, and this time was no exception. It did eventually end however, the climactic fight between Ripley and the Queen being as brilliant as every other time she'd seen it, and as the credits rolled she looked up to see Draco, his expression speaking of his appreciation of the movie.

"So?"

"Well, those were incredible. I'm glad these were my introduction to Muggle movies. She's a complete badass, isn't she?" He replied.

"Ripley? Yeah, absolutely." 

"And the guy, ummm," he snapped his fingers a few times, "not Hicks, Hudson. Funny as hell." He began. "We got nukes, knives, sharp sticks." He quoted, before laughing.

"Yeah, Bill Paxton, that's the actor. He's just brilliant." She agreed.

"Yeah. Love it. Love those movies, thanks for showing them to me. I can easily say that I would never have seen them without you."

She smiled, just enjoying the moment as she nestled back onto his shoulder.

It wasn't long however before reality returned and she noted the time. "I suppose we should head back soon." She said, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice, truly not wanting to return to a house that contained Bellatrix Lestrange.

He sighed, "Yeah. But, we've got everything we need to get out now... Well, everything except a plan to get Delphini, and get rid of Bellatrix."

She heard what he said, and knew what he'd meant. They were going to have to kill- to murder Bellatrix and, though she absolutely deserved it, he was still uneasy about it, and honestly so was she. She had no qualms with Bellatrix dying, but one mistake, one mess up, and Bellatrix could just as easily kill both of them before they pulled it off, and then there was Draco's request, backed up by Pansy's past. 

She knew Draco didn't want her to kill Bellatrix, he wanted to do it, to save her, or so he said, from losing that part of herself. She hadn't considered it until he'd said it, but she knew he was right. Murder changed a person, that was magical fact, and she wasn't sure she wanted that for herself -- but neither did she want that for him.

"I know what you're getting at Draco," she began, careful to take his arm that draped over her shoulder and hold it, ensuring him that she wasn't annoyed. "I don't necessarily want to kill her, and I don't particularly want you to either... But she, she can't- we can't take Delphini with her alive, it's too dangerous."

"No, I agree. Plus, if anyone deserves to die, it's her and, well, him." He responded, "I just, I don't want you... Well, you know. I already said my piece."

"Yeah, and I- I appreciate it and I don't want to murder anyone, of course I don't, but I don't want you to either."

"I would rather do it, than have you do it, but I'll go along with whatever you decide."

"I know you will." She said softly, leaning her head back onto him, smiling as he kissed the top of her head.

"When are you thinking? I mean, a plan doesn't seem forthcoming, but we should at least set a date, to let Pansy know, and then, if we have a date, we'll have to just do what comes naturally. I- I can't plan a murder, I just can't, but it needs to happen. We just need to pick when, and I'm leaning toward sooner, as opposed to later. She's still got the Polyjuice, possibly, and I really don't want to go through that -- plus, the sooner we're out of there, the sooner I'll never have to put you under that curse again." 

She thought for a moment. The concept didn't sit well with her, she'd rather have a meticulous plan worked out, taking into account all the variables -- but as he said, she couldn't plan a murder, it just wasn't something she could do, or wanted to do. 

She nodded. "Tomorrow?" She mused, feeling him shift. She sat up, allowing him to move and turned to face him. "Really soon, I know, but the longer we leave it the more complicated it will become, and it's already too complicated."

He looked at her, his eyes then dropping and darting around as he sifted through thoughts. He slowly nodded. "Yeah... Okay. Tomorrow. I'll need to contact Pansy, guess I'll send an owl when we get back."

"Well, I might be able to get the message to her a bit more securely." She stated, recalling a spell she had been practicing a long time ago, but never actually tried. "But, I'm not really sure."

"What, how?"

"The Patronus Charm, it can be used to deliver messages. It- it's not easy, and I've never done it, but I practiced it a while ago." She explained, taking up her wand and gripping it. "I just... I don't know if I can even cast that spell any more, never mind make it a messenger."

"Well, you've got a better chance than me and," he scoffed, smiling at her, "You're Hermione Granger. If anyone can do it, it would be you. Come on, give it a shot, what's the worst that could happen. I cast one and I was pretty sure that maggots were going to burst from my wand and consume me. You're irrefutably good, so you don't need to worry about that. If it doesn't work, I'll send her an owl, but if it does... Wouldn't you like to know?" He said, standing up, taking her hand as he did and gently coaxing her off of the couch.

She nodded. "Okay." 

She cleared her mind and closed her eyes, drawing up all the memories she had from her early years at Hogwarts. Of her and Harry and Ron laughing, learning, and growing together. She thought about all the times she and Ron had been close, the times they had inadvertently and awkwardly hugged, or held hands, or touched. She felt the joy swelling inside her, the warmth, the light. "Expecto Patronum." She said clearly, flicking her wand slightly. She felt the warmth, the glow, swell and begin moving up her arm only for a lance of void, of grief, to shatter it as images of Ron dying, and the lifeless corpse of Harry thrust obtrusively into her mind, pushing her thoughts to instead spiral down.

She caught herself, dropping her arm and opening her eyes, the tears filling them, though she fought them back. "I can't. I- I can't. You need happy memories, thoughts of joy and hope to cast a Patronus, and mine are all broken. Fragments of them aren't enough."

"Come on," she heard him say as he stepped around in front of her, gently taking her hands. "Your memories, and the happiness they bring you, are yours. They haven't taken them, and they can't destroy them if you don't let them. Yes, Harry and Ron may be gone, but that doesn't mean what they did matters any less. They made you happy, those memories are still yours, that happiness is still yours. They both had a profound effect on you, and on the world, and that can only be undone if the people who remember them allow it to be." He slipped a hand up from hers, and rested it on her cheek, angling her face to look him in the eye. "Now try again, and when the darkness comes, push it away. Your memories are yours, no-one elses."

She blinked, trying to make sure the tears she nearly shed weren't visible to him. She hated appearing so weak around him, despite the fact she knew he thought only the best of her. Confidence had never been a thing she'd been lacking, not in regard to magic anyway. If she couldn't do a spell, she would just keep trying until she could -- but now, after her time at the camp, she just found herself full of self doubt sometimes.

She sniffed, raising her shoulders and preparing her stance, Draco smiling and stepping aside. 

Once again she drew on her memories. Thoughts of Ron and Harry, of Ginny and Neville, of all the brilliant times she'd had at Hogwarts, surrounded by her dearest friends. She focused on it, allowing the warmth and the happiness to fill her completely. "Expecto Patronum." 

She focused, willing the light to flare from her wand, and just as she felt the grief and guilt of survival threaten to tear it down, she drew on another memory, a more recent one. She remembered how she felt waking up, with Draco's arm around her. She remembered how she felt when he'd conjured his Patronus because of her, because of how he felt around her. She remembered kissing him. She remembered hearing what he'd said at the Remnant's camp. And she remembered the look in his eyes when she'd confessed she felt the same.

She felt it before she saw it. The rush of magic coursing through her and up her wand. She opened her eyes in time to see a flare of blue-white bloom at the tip before it swam free, forming the graceful and playful form of an otter. She followed it, turning on the spot as it swam around her, the sheer joy radiating from it causing her instinctual smile to widen further.

It coiled around her legs, spiraling up her before peeling off just after reaching her shoulder to drift aimlessly, laying on its back, as if floating in water.

She turned to look at Draco, his smile one of sincere happiness and pride. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, his mild exclamation of shock before his hand went to the small of her back simply making her affection heighten.

She pulled back, locking eyes with him.

"Thank you."

She leaned forward and kissed him, running her tongue along his lips before he parted them and they began exploring each other's mouths again.

The kiss didn't last forever, as much as she would have liked it to, and the moment they parted, his hands went to her waist and hers to his chest.

"I don't why you're thanking me." He began, his eyes speaking of pure sincerity. "That was all you. I didn't do that." She smiled, looking down and across, almost embarrassedly, before she looked back and he continued. "You are every bit the witch you've always been. I know it, and the sooner you realise it the sooner you'll stop giving me undue credit."

She looked at him, her eyes carving every line of his face into her memory. Every mark, every angle. The cool brilliance of his eyes, and how no matter what they were showing, there was always a certain hunger in them when he looked at her.

"Hermione?" He asked, his voice quiet.

"Yeah." She replied, her body aching under the weight of his gaze.

"The message?" 

She blinked. "Shit, yeah. Sorry." Her senses surfacing from the perfumed depths where they had just been, her turning out of his grip to approach her drifting Patronus.

"Don't apologize, I very nearly didn't remind you, but... Well, didn't want to push my luck."

"You can push sometimes." She said, smiling slyly over her shoulder, wishing he'd pushed, but knowing him reminding her was the better call.

"Pansy," she began, the otter immediately seeming to sit up and pay complete attention to her, "We'll be leaving tomorrow. We'll have Delphini with us. If we succeed, Bellatrix will be dead, if we don't... Well, thank you for everything." She held the otter's gaze, imparting it with a catalogue if nonverbal instructions, the first and foremost being to only deliver the message when Pansy was alone, then she relaxed her gaze, and the otter shrank to a fist sized orb of light, and vanished through the exterior wall of their hotel room.

"There. That should get to her as soon as she's alone." She said, turning around to face Draco, almost squeaking as she turned and her lips immediately pressed to his, his hands flying to her waist as he began manoeuvring her toward the bed.

Her hands immediately went to his face, resting there for but a second before all the tension she had felt just a moment before reasserted itself, alongside a powerful sense of urgency, and her hands flew down to grab her top and haul it off over her head.

She could only assume, though felt it a safe bet, that this was what Draco was aiming for, but regardless, she wanted it. She needed it.

As her top was peeled off, she discarded it on the ground and returned to kissing him, just as her knees hit the bed and she buckled, being driven back onto the mattress. Their kiss broke, but neither said anything, their hands just diving down to unfastened the trousers of the other. 

As her eyes shifted up, meeting his, his hands grabbed the waistband of her jeans and roughly tugged them off, discarding them onto the ground, though they actually remained attached to her as the right leg of her jeans was turned inside out and hung from her ankle. She didn't care, and neither did he, the desperation for the other being the only thing on either of their minds. 

She opened his shirt, tugging on the buttons so urgently that there was a very real possibility that she would tear some free, and the moment his shirt fell open, and she ran her hands up his bare chest.

Pitching forward, her breath caught as he began kissing her shoulder and neck.

She started breathing heavier, her body practically singing in response to him as she slid her hands across his chest, and round to his back, over his shoulders to push his shirt down his arms and free, his prior removal of his cufflinks making it far easier. 

He lowered himself, pressing his weight to her, her feeling his chest compress her own, her bra being the only thing separating them, but she had no intention of denying herself any longer to remove it.

With his shirt free, she dragged her hand up, grabbing his hair and gently pulling him back.

"Stop playing." She breathed, her voice sounding hungrier than she expected.

"Just pushing my luck a bit." He replied, nothing but wicked lust and affection in his eyes as she felt his left hand shift down, undoubtedly to steady himself.

She felt him brush against her, threatening to drive into her at any moment, she rested her head back, allowing her eyes to flutter closed, wanting to focus entirely on the coming sensation. 

That intention was denied to her, however.

"Hey, look at me." She heard him say, her eye opening and shifting to his.

"What?" She breathed, unable to stop her hips rolling as she tried to force him into her, the feeling of his smooth tip teasing her rapidly becoming too much.

"Look at me." He said again, his eyes locked firmly, dangerously on hers as he began pushing his hips forward, slowly.

She got it now. He wanted to see her, to read every miniscule change in her expression as he pressed centimetre after centimetre, inch after inch of himself into her. 

Feeling her envelope him, having her beneath him, just not being enough. He needed everything. In this desperate, hungry moment between the two of them, he needed to experience all of it. 

She held his gaze, almost shrinking in fear under the cool slate knives that his eyes felt like as they bled her of every emotion, every sensation that her eyes showed, all underlined by the exigent lust she was feeling.

His hips pressed firmly to hers as she felt his cock now fully inside her. The sensation of having him inside her was indescribable, and the moment he withdrew himself only to buck back forward again, the moan that tore from her throat made her eyes shut with embarrassment. 

She half expected him to stop, to demand her eyes open again, but he didn't. Instead, in her world of darkness, where all she experienced was touch, her heart skipped as his lips found here again, the pace of his thrusts increasing as her hands once again went to his back.

It seemed urgency was the mood of the moment, for both of them. There had been no foreplay, no teasing, only a deep need to cum with the other, and that was evident in his actions. Her eyes flew open again as he broke the kiss and his pace increased again. Changing his posture, moving from leaning over her to instead standing up right, his grip on her waist hardened as he began driving himself into her far harder than necessary, though delightfully so.

His eyes dropped to her neck or collar bone, almost as if he was ashamed of what he was doing, of how desperate his need was. She swatted, with her hands that could no longer reach his back, at his forearms, causing him to look back at her.

"Look at me." She gasped, managing to form the words just as her first orgasm smashed into her senses. She had no idea how she looked when she came, it was embarrassing, and honestly she didn't want to think about it -- but she did want him to see it. She wanted him to see how he made her feel, how what he was doing was exactly what she needed. She wanted him to know that she was as desperate for this as he was, and how she wanted to see the same from him.

She gripped and pawed at his forearms as she came back down only for his relentless actions to push her back into the perfumed embrace of another. The only thing tying her to reality in these moments was the sensation of Draco continuing to fuck her, her knowing, with what remained of her senses, that another orgasm was imminent the moment this one subsided, that and the constant flaring pain from her cramping feet.

She couldn't keep her eyes open, no matter how much she wanted to, but as fortune would have it her eyes flickered open just as she felt his grip on her waist tighten further, possibly even bruising her. She saw his expression shift to one that could be mistaken for anger, though she knew it was anything but.

"Look at me." She gasped. "Look at me." 

His eyes shot to hers, a delightful and exciting sensation of fear stabbing through her at the look she found there. The sound of their skin clapping together filled the room, and she could see him breathing terribly hard as his jaw set and clenched, and a look of lustful rage filled his eyes.

"Look at me." She gasped again just as another orgasm hammered into her, her feeling the first of Draco's final thrusts drive into her, as the first rope of his cum was loosed.

Tears began running from her eyes, as she locked her legs behind him, instinctually denying him the option of pulling out. He stopped thrusting into her, his expression instantly dropping as concern flooded him.

"Are you okay, did I hurt you? I didn't mean-" He began, instantly fumbling and trying to pull out though she wouldn't let him. He stopped when he saw her smiling and shaking her head, though she could tell her eyes were red.

She let out a slight laugh through the tears as she pawed at him, dragging him down on top of her to hold him.

"No. No. Not at all, I- I don't know why I'm crying." She blubbed, nothing but joy and deep affection filling her heart, another laugh leaving her as she ran her hands through his hair, still enjoying the sensation of having him inside her. "I just," she held him tighter, tightening her leg lock as well. "That was perfect."

In the few minutes she held him there before releasing her legs and allowing him to lay down beside her, she could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he tried to justify the tears he had seen, with what she had said.

As the mattress bowed beside her, shifting to accommodate Draco's weight, she sidled closer to him, bringing her hands up to wipe her eyes and face.

"Are you sure I didn't-" He began, falling silent as she chuckled.

"I'm sure, Draco, I'm just- I got all stupid and emotional and... Overwhelmed, I guess. Honestly, that was- that was amazing." She sighed, happy to fall asleep, despite her chaotic state of half-dress, and the fact she was dangling off the bed.

They both laid there for a few minutes, not speaking, just laying beside each other before Draco finally spoke.

"We need to get back." 

She groaned, knowing from his tone that he felt exactly the same, though she knew he was right of course. "Fine." She protested, putting on a mock-petulant tone, before propping herself up on her elbows. "Do you mind if I clean myself up first?" She asked, a heavy wash of embarrassment befalling her halfway through the sentence.

"Be my guest and, uh, sorry, I guess." 

"Oh, yeah. You sound really cut up." She chuckled, getting up, kicking the last of her jeans off, before pulling him up and kissing him. She felt his hand stroke down her spine, her back arching in response, to settle just above her tailbone, his other holding her shoulder as she pressed her hands to his chest.

She held the kiss for a few seconds before pushing him lightly away, smiling, and moving into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

It didn't take long to sort herself out, magic aiding a good deal, including the application of the contraceptive charm, and soon enough she reopened the door, summoned her jeans over, and pulled them on. Stepping out, flicking her wand to call her top to her, she saw Draco was already dressed, fastening the last cufflink as her eyes set on him. She'd always liked the scruffy, kind of haphazard look that Ron had had, it felt homely and warm. Draco was different, about as different as a person could be. He always looked refined, always looked as rich as he was, and she'd be lying if she said it didn't suit him. He looked good, but part of her wondered what he'd look like in a slightly oversized jumper, plain jeans, and work boots... Maybe she'd find out one day, especially with him about to discard his life of luxury for her, and for Delphini, and for the magical world as a whole.

Had he thought of that? She wondered.

"Draco," she began, him looking around as he slung the tent over his shoulder after stuffing the VHS copies of Alien and Aliens into their bag. "You know that, after we join the Remnant, you're going to lose access to all your money, right?"

"Not all of it. I thought about that, but I didn't want to drag you back to Alley again today. I'm planning on swinging by Gringotts tomorrow, before we make our play, and fill a bag with as much money as it can carry. Not for me, but for the Remnant as a whole. It can't be easy for them to get funds." He began before cocking his head slightly, "If what your asking is am I ready for a harder life, without all the creature comforts I'm used to... Then yes. I'll struggle, I'm sure, and I'm sure it'll be endlessly entertaining for you -- but as long we're doing the right thing, which I'm sure we are, I'll be fine." He said, the look in his eyes as he scanned her up and down again speaking more. "Besides. You and Delphini. The chance to right by you, and do some good in the world... That more than makes up for the loss of money." He said again, his words now echoing the sentiment she saw in his eyes.

She smiled, sorting her top before they stepped out of the room and went down to reception. Checking out, they walked down the street to nowhere, ducking into an alley before Draco drew his wand. She grabbed his arm, but the apparition never happened. She looked up at him, seeing him looking back at her before he stowed his wand again.

"You do it." He said, smiling at her.

"That's a dangerous spell, and I'm out of practice. I could splinch us both." She replied, her confidence immediately shrinking again.

"You just cast a Patronus, Hermione. You can take us home." He said, his tone matter of fact, and reassuring as he plucked her wand from her waist band, his thumb brushing across her skin as he did.

She took the wand and steadied her breathing. She focused on Malfoy Manor, his bedroom specifically. She pictured where it was in relation to where they were, and then, with Draco taking her hand, she span her wand in a circle and held her breath.

The next breath she took was warmer, the cold of the London night air replaced with the familiar smell of bed linen that underlined the air in Draco's room. Opening her eyes she was looking at Draco's bed, the white linen crisp and inviting. She immediately looked across at Draco seeing him smiling at her, pride in his eyes again.

"Alright, shut up." She smiled, embarrassed at how proud she felt of herself that she didn't want his praise making her feel even more.

Her experience at the camps had really struck her magical confidence. Back at school she was eager to learn and to use spells, even advanced ones, but months of being belittled had stripped her of much of her former confidence. Casting spells, complicated ones at least, filled her with anxiety, and a sense of dread. But she'd just done it -- two very complicated spells within a couple of hours of each other. 

She deserved her magic, and she was damn good at it.

The twisting of the door handle to Draco's room caught them both by surprise, Hermione barely having time to roughly shove her wand under the mattress while Draco closed the wardrobe after dropping the tent inside, before the door opened and Bellatrix stepped in, completely unannounced.

"Auntie, I nearly jinxed you." Draco sighed, lowering the wand she hadn't noticed that he had raised at Bellatrix.

"Well that would have been awkward." Bellatrix replied, her hand shifting to her hip as she cocked it, the long, elegant, black corseted dress she was wearing making her look, as much as Hermione loathed to admit it, rather beautiful. 

Her hair was still a wild tangled mess, though Hermione suspected, from the way it looked up close, that a lot of care and attention went in to keep that hair just so, the streaks of white carving through it only making the appearance more striking. One thing she hadn't noticed until now, as she looked at Bellatrix wearing a wide and surprisingly warm smile, was that her teeth had been corrected. The last time she had noticed, her teeth had been in terrible condition after her years at Azkaban, but now it seemed she had found time to have them corrected, and her smile was flawless. 

"Wouldn't it?" He smiled, the question purely rhetorical. "I would have hated to have uglied you up with a stinging jinx."

"Yeah, that would be a bit unfortunate... For you. I'm not sure I could let that slide with a simple apology." 

"Everything okay?" He asked, referring undoubtedly to her sudden appearance in his room.

"I heard someone apparate in, can't be too careful, there are undesirables causing all sorts of issues lately." She replied, her gaze flicking over to Granger. "Rather surprised, relieved of course, but surprised nobody has come for her yet."

"What, you put her here despite thinking there'd be a rescue attempt?"

"Well, sort of. The reason she's here is because this place is fairly safe, and the Dark Lord has faith in your abilities. I just assumed they'd be bold enough and foolish enough to try." She continued, Hermione fighting the urge to shift uneasily at the veiled suspicion Bellatrix was projecting.

"Well, I assume they either aren't bold enough, or are smarter than perhaps they've been given credit... Though, not smart enough to see the world for what it is now -- better. It could also be the fair amount of fear you instill in people, Bellatrix." Draco answered, shifting to flattery in the hopes it may disarm her. There was a time when Hermione would have never counted on that to work, but that was before she'd gleaned Bellatrix's unfamilial interest in her nephew.

She laughed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Well, perhaps. It would be quite the task to assault this place," she began, Hermione nearly rolling her eyes given how simply Pansy had done precisely that, though in fairness she didn't really know what Pansy had gone through to get to the Manor undetected. "And as for me... Do I frighten you, Draco?" She asked, her voice shifting to a more sultry tone, the sound setting the hairs on Hermione's neck on end.

She cast her eyes, as subtly as she could, toward Draco, seeing him shift uneasily, but also recognising the glint in his eye, the one that made her believe he knew exactly what he was going to do.

"Well," he began, looking down briefly before returning his gaze to her, "I'd be lying if I said no." He then turned, as if trying to distract himself from a conversation that was rapidly becoming awkward, though in actuality it was to roll his eyes at her in regard to his aunt. "You've always been an intimidating sort, and powerful with it. You couldn't have captured the heart of the Dark Lord himself unless you'd been exceptional, and, well, your love for him was one of the driving forces behind me swearing to him as well. If he was worthy enough to have your eye, then he must have been something special." He concluded, turning back after discarding his suit jacket on the bed, straightening his cufflinks again.

"Is that so?"

"Well, and I don't want any doubts cast on my loyalty, as I'm now-" him stopping mid comment as a nod from Bellatrix implied that his loyalty was not in question here, though Hermione was less convinced, "Back when I was younger, and I can't really remember you from before your imprisonment, I was so young at the time, but as I was growing my mother would tell me stories and show me pictures of you. She'd tell me how powerful you were, and the pictures, well, you were beautiful -- still are. The Dark Lord, however, all I knew of him was that he failed, and that that failure had cost you your freedom, and me an aunt that I would have liked to have known." He was sitting on the bed at this point. "But, I still worked toward his ends as, if he came back, surely he'd bring you back... And he did. Him repairing my family, and knowing how loyal you are to him, despite all those years in Azkaban, well... That was enough for me."

"Well, I'm sorry I got myself captured, I would have liked to have seen more of you, as you were growing." 

"From the report I read, you didn't let yourself get captured -- it was quite the battle if the report is to be believed." He interrupted.

"Well, I'm sure it pales in comparison." She sniggered, twirling a strand of her hair in her fingers. "So, you have photos of me?" She asked, now leaning on the wall.

"Oh, only the one. Mother gave it to me when I was younger, trying to help me remember you."

"I don't see it." She said, casting her eyes around the room.

"Oh, no, I had to put it away." He said, getting up and sweeping over to open a drawer on his desk, retrieving a glass fronted, simple wooden framed photograph from the bottom of one of the drawers.

Hermione could barely make out the picture, the layer of dust on the glass obscuring it slightly, though it appeared to be Bellatrix during her Hogwarts years.

"This one." He said, smiling at it before handing it over.

"Oh, I remember that day." She cooed, taking the picture and wiping free the remnants of dust that Draco missed. "Days were different then-" 

"But you look the same." He added, Hermione fighting to suppress a smirk, seeing exactly what Draco was doing, trying to lessen Voldemort's chief Death Eater and Bodyguard's nearly constant readiness by appealing to her incestuous desires.

"That's sweet, but you shouldn't lie." She replied, passing it back. "Why did you put it away? I'm not offended, just curious." She asked.

He chuckled, looking down at the photo, Hermione noticing his thumb trace affectionately across the image, before he lightly shook his head and looked back up, before turning to place the picture back. "It um, it's a bit awkward, but, um... It made certain… it made giving other girls, like Pansy, a chance quite difficult. I was always just," he sighed, closing the drawer and looking at the wall, Hermione honestly impressed with how well he was playing the part, "hoping I'd round the corner at Hogwarts one day and see someone just like that photo standing there, laughing, smiling... Someone I had, somehow missed every other time." He turned back, smiling sadly, "Never happened of course. It just made life more complicated at an already complicated time, the whole look but don't touch just-" he stopped and she saw him masterfully shift his expression to one of sudden unease. "I- I shouldn't be telling you this. Fuck."

"Why not?" She asked, leaning up from the wall and taking half a step forward. 

"Because it's wrong, Bellatrix. I'm sorry, I shouldn't-"

"But I'm back now. I'm in your life, that girl in the photo is right here, sure, I'm a bit older, and not as pretty-" 

"You're not as pretty, but you're more beautiful than you were then, but still, it's still look but don't touch. Plus, the Dark Lord, and- and Pansy has just come back into my life... I don't, I don't want to frustrate real things in my life for something I could never really have."

It was then that she finally moved, Hermione tensing and fighting the urge to go for her wand, even knowing that Bellatrix could strike her down before she got there, instead simply watching, watching as Bellatrix crossed the distance between them and angled Draco's chin so that he was looking at her.

"You should never say never, Draco." She whispered, unashamedly delving further, and pushing closer to this taboo, despite Hermione playing audience. She watched as Bellatrix ran her hands to his chest before, just as she assumed Draco would protest, snapping her head round toward the door, her expression shifted to pained humour. "Never a quiet moment." She sighed.

"W-what?" Draco replied, the nerves in his voice entirely real.

"Delphini," Bellatrix began, "she's woken up." Bellatrix sighed, stepping back, her fingers lingering on him as long as they could.

"I can't hear anything." 

"No, she's the other side of the house, but you learn lots of new spells when you're a mother. I charm her every night so I'm alerted when she wakes up. I'm not going to use magic to force her to sleep through, that's cruel, but to keep an eye on her? Well..."

"Well, she needs you." Draco said, carefully injecting just enough disappointment in with his familial care so as to sound convincing.

"Maybe another time." She sighed, her mouth pulling into a mischievous smile as she moved toward the door. "Oh, did you get all your shopping?"

"Oh, um, no. I need to pop back first thing, pick up Pansy's gift. But I'll only be about an hour or two." He replied, seemingly intentionally keeping his eyes on her, following every sway in the way she walked.

"Well... Don't be too long. I really am hoping to spend some time with you." She said, pulling the door open, her sly smile returning.

"So am I." 

Her smile widened as she stepped out, the door closing behind her. 

"Draco, I-" Hermione began, before he silenced her with a raised hand, drawing his wand.

"Homenum Revelio." He whispered, tracing the appropriate gesture in the air.

She watched as he followed a figure she couldn't see, as it apparently moved away down the corridor. After a few seconds, he dropped his wand and sighed heavily, immediately raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "That was horrible."

"I know, but you did brilliantly." She replied, moving over and taking hold of him from behind.

"Hopefully that will make it easier getting her alone tomorrow." He said quietly, the thought about what he was planning on doing seeming to weigh on him, something that she would have been concerned about if it hadn't.

"You'll definitely find it easier to get her alone than I would. If- if the offer is still there, I'd be okay if you were the one to-"

"Definitely." He interrupted, turning in her arms to face her. "Definitely."


	13. Chapter 13

[[[ Quick reminder. I do try to proof read, but I can miss stuff. Please excuse any errors. ]]]

**__________**

**Part Thirteen.**

He hadn't been able to sleep much, just constantly running what he needed to do over in his mind, time and time again. He'd wanted to sleep, of course he had, and with Hermione beside him, her arm on him, the smell of her in the air, it should have been an easy thing, especially after the day before. The enormity of the task that awaited him today, however, had cast a thick, heavy shadow over everything, snuffing out the joy that she brought him.

He knelt by the coffee table, eschewing the couch as sitting on it would place him uncomfortably high for what he was doing, and stared at the empty parchment, the quill in his hand hovering above the inkwell. He'd abandoned trying to sleep a few hours ago, and though it was still very early morning he had instead decided to write a goodbye to his parents. He'd decided that, but so far had only a few screwed up pieces of parchment to show for his efforts.

A mote of light shone dimly from the tip of his wand which lay beside him on the table, him manipulating the flare so as to help him write, but not be bright enough to disturb Hermione. One of them needed to sleep at least, and if he had to pick, he'd pick her every time.

He dropped the quill in the inkwell, leaning back and sighing defeatedly. Bringing his right hand up, he used his thumb and forefinger to rub his eyes before dragging them across to pinch the bridge of his nose, and then left there for a while, crossing his left arm across his chest to support the elbow of his right.

He smiled as he pulled his thoughts from the moment and instead thrust them into the memories of the day before. He relived the experience he'd had of journeying through nervousness, disappointment, hope, and then joy from his admission to Hermione, and her reciprocation. His thoughts dwelled on the way she'd looked, the light in her eyes as she'd cast her Patronus, that flare of confidence returning to her. Then his mind dove deeper, to the look in her eyes as she'd laid on the bed. To the rising and falling of her chest as her breaths became heavier and more ragged. No matter what his mind flashed before him, no matter what the memory of her was, it was always riding atop a steady stream of affection… of love.

He opened his eyes and lowered his hands. Snatching up the quill, he gently tapped it on the rim of the inkwell, before once again scratching a message to his parents onto the parchment. 

Placing his quill down and restoppering the inkwell, he glanced at the clock. Five fifteen. He looked back at the parchment, reading the note again. He wasn't happy with it, but how could he be? This note would be read by parents after he murdered his aunt and kidnapped his cousin. What could he possibly write that would really matter? Still, the note contained everything he considered pertinent, and allowed him to at least explain that he still loved them, despite him standing opposed to their world.

He left the parchment sitting there, allowing the ink to dry, as he stood up and rubbed his protesting legs. Glancing around his eyes snagging on Hermione's sleeping form before continuing over to the wardrobe, he quietly padded around and set about removing the tent. He couldn't pitch it in here, not without massively rearranging the room, but he might be able to just set up the opening enough to shove things inside. Sure, you couldn't transport living things inside a collapsible expanded tent, seeing as all the air is forced out when it gets compacted, but objects are okay, as long as you don't expect too much of it.

He went to grab the tent but stopped when he heard Hermione take a shuddering inhalation and shift on the bed again. She fidgeted a lot in her sleep, or she was now anyway. Since her arrival, any time she'd been asleep, he'd been asleep, so he didn't know if this was normal for her or not.

He went to step for the bed, intending to wake her, fearing she was having a repeat of the nightmare from the night before, but stopped when her breathing settled again. This was the third time he'd thought about waking her, and the third time he hadn't, instead returning to the tent to quietly levitate it out and place it by the window, closing the wardrobe as he did.

Returning to the coffee table, he took the parchment, inkwell, and quill, and returned them to his desk before flicking his wand and focusing. He managed to lift the couch and table and place them along the side wall opposite the wardrobe. They weren't functional there, at all, but they freed up just enough space for him to partially pitch the tent. He'd bought one of the most expensive varieties, so it came fully furnished and equipped, but if he could get his mattress in there, he would. The couch too, if there was space. From what he'd seen of the Remnant camp, their arrangements were pretty bare bones, and he was happy to entertain, and if he could provide a few creature comforts, regardless of if they remained in his tent or he gifted them to others, then he was happy to.

Placing the tent down in the modest space, he took the time to cast a silencing charm on it before unpacking and partially pitching the tent. It wasn't easy, but a few castings of the sticking charm to stop it shifting across his bedroom floor, and he soon had the entrance up, and with enough internal space available to store a few things. 

The view inside the partially collapsed tent was truly unusual, as the chimney, stove, and other furniture seemed to almost shrink and fold in violation of what should be possible. Smiling slightly at the absurdity of the image, he stepped back out and, holding the tent open, began floating the couch inside, followed by all the bedding stored in his wardrobes. Glancing across at the coffee table, he shrugged before floating that inside as well.

He stepped away from the tent, the sheet of fabric falling closed, the flare of light from his wand casting dim light over Hermione, just in time to see her begin to panic in her sleep, or at least for the signs of panic to become evident.

"I fucking knew it." He hissed, chastising himself for not waking her from her nightmare sooner.

He moved around the bed, sitting on the side of which she was sleeping. Reaching for her, he stopped, not wanting to touch her while she was in the midst of a nightmare involving precisely that.

"Hermione." He said firmly, loud enough to hopefully rouse her. Her nightmare continued however, her breath coming in panicked bursts as her head twitched from side to side.

"Hermione!" He tried again, and again not succeeding in waking her.

"Babe!" He exclaimed, jostling her shoulders with both hands, immediately snapping them back as her eyes shot open. He recoiled from the bed to stand, his wand playing light over him, as she instinctively, defensively, grabbed her wand from under her pillow and aimed at his chest. 

"Stupefy!" She exclaimed, her expression shifting from anger and fear to recognition just after the angry bolt of red light leapt from the tip of her wand.

He felt the searing pain of the spell strike his chest, and vaguely noticed himself falling backwards as his world went dark.

He assumed he was out for less than a few seconds, coming to to find Hermione leaning over him, a distraught look in her eye. "Draco. Draco, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize it was you until I already-"

"It's fine." He groaned, his complaint turning into a chuckle. "I knew I shouldn't have touched you, I just couldn't wake you up." He continued, sitting up.

"No. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean t-" He silenced her unnecessary apology by quickly stealing a kiss, her starting slightly as his lips pressed to hers midword.

"I'm fine." He smiled, pulling back and breaking the kiss, Hermione's eyes settling on his. 

"You know, there are easier ways to get me to stop talki-" She began, stopping when he pressed his lips to hers again before pulling back.

"Yeah, but I like this one." He smirked.

"Tosser." She smiled, shoving him lightly.

"Anyway, it was my fault. I should have woken you sooner. I thought you were having a nightmare I just- I wasn't sure. Never really seen you sleep before, so I didn't know if the fidgeting was normal for you or not." He smiled, his hand moving to rub the sore spot on his chest where the spell had hit.

"Was I keeping you awake? Wh- why weren't you in bed?" 

"Oh, no. No I- I just couldn't sleep. I've been up all night." 

"Doing what?" She began, looking around and catching the edge of the tent before turning to look at it. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I started off writing a letter to my parents… um, that took a long time. Just didn't know what to say, especially given the circumstances that they'll be reading it. After that," he began, smiling softly at her when she looked back at him, "I figured I'd fit what I could into the tent, take some extra stuff, even if it isn't much, for the Remnant to use. I'll be cramming this mattress in there too, we can give the one that came with the tent to one of the people at the camp, I'm sure a brand new mattress would be appreciated by someone, and I love this mattress." He finished, readjusting himself on the floor so that he was sitting comfortably there, Hermione on her knees, sitting on her feet.

"That's a good idea. The letter, too, I mean. Better that, than just leaving." She answered, smiling at him. "I'm sorry you didn't get any sleep."

"Nah, it's alright. Just, got a- got a pretty… pretty serious thing to do today and- I just couldn't get the point of falling asleep, you know? As much as I really wanted to. Uh, I don't really like the note that I wrote. Could you read it and, I don't know, tell me if it's okay?"

"I'm sure it's fine, but, yeah, if you want. I can check your spelling." She smiled, injecting a modicum of humour.

"Yeah. You know, even with things being how they are, and circumstances being- well… I just didn't want to leave without some semblance of a goodbye." He shrugged.

"No. No I get that, it um, it sucks." She replied, him seeing something in her eyes that made him think that she was referring to more than just Harry and Ron.

"Wait… I can't believe I didn't ask before now, h- how are your parents? Where are they, do you know, do you need to find them?" He asked, the sudden realization hitting him hard.

"They're in Australia," she replied, her expression getting slightly more pained, a subtle shift he may not have noticed had he not been paying such close attention. "I'll go get them when this is all over. For now- well, for now they're safe at least."

"They must be worried sick about you. Do you need to send them an owl, or maybe use your Patronus-" he began, stopping as she started lightly shaking her head, a sad smile on her face.

"No," she sniffed, "no, they don't, um- they'd don't even know I exist. I altered their memories, they don't know I exist, they don't even have the same names as before. I- I gave them entirely different lives." 

Every time he thought he had a handle on what she'd been through, some other heartbreaking detail came to light and reaffirmed the fact that he had no idea.

"I-" he began, but fell silent, not knowing what to say, and instead just throwing his arm around her and pulling her in. Finally words formed, and though they seemed weak and meaningless, he said them anyway. "They're safe at least and… and we'll get you back to them, okay. I promise." 

He had made her many promises since she'd reappeared in his life, and he meant to keep every single one. He would help her defeat the Dark Lord, or die trying. He would kill Bellatrix. He would have the three that abused her so intimately screaming by the end. He would see her parents back in her life. All of it.

"Yeah. Bottom of the list though. But still, I wish I'd had chance to say goodbye, so, even if it is just a note, it's a good idea." She replied softly, before gently extracting herself from his embrace. "So, do you want me to read it?" 

"Yeah, if you don't mind. It's on the desk. I'll set about fitting this," he gestured to the mattress, "in there." He concluded, shifting his eyes over to the tent.

"Well. You're pretty good at fitting one thing inside another." She said without missing a beat as she pushed herself up.

He smiled up at her, a smirk flashing across her face before she grabbed her wand and dialed up the lighting in the room.

"You're unbelievable." He chuckled, getting to his feet.

With a swipe of his wand, him seeing her pick up the parchment out of the corner of his eye, he sent the bedding falling off the bed, before the mattress itself raised about an inch from the frame. Moving over and holding the tent open, he teased the mattress inside, placing it flat on the floor where he found room, resigning to sort it out later before turning back into the bedroom.

Looking over he saw Hermione looking at him, the parchment in her hand. She nodded. "Yeah, seems good to me but, well, it's from you, so my opinion doesn't really matter."

"Matters to me."

"It's good. What I would suggest is, I don't know, maybe suggesting a lie or another that they could spin about why you've gone. Like, the Remnant rescuing me and kidnapping both you and Delphini. Something they could tell the Dark Lord so he doesn't- well, you know." She said placing the note down on the desk.

"Yeah. That's a good idea. I'll add it on the bottom, or the back." He agreed, walking over. "Can you think of anything else to go in the tent?"

She shook her head and he turned, wand out stretched, and collapsed it. He watched as it folded in on itself and soon occupied a space only fractionally larger than before he had opened and added to it.

"We should probably get dressed, and pack our other clothes. I assume you'll be wanting your notes and artefacts too?" She asked, moving toward her wardrobe, pulling her night dress off over her head, granting him the intoxicating view of her completely nude except for her underwear.

He shook his head, trying to dislodge his thoughts and focus on what she'd said. "Uh, only the WitchBane. The notes, sure, but the other artefacts can stay. I doubt-" He stopped as she turned to face him, having just adorned a bra, a pair of bruises on her waist greeting him.

His mind immediately recoiled to the hotel room the day before. "Shit, Hermione! Why didn't you say anything? I'm sorry. I- I never meant to-" he began, moving over, guilt washing through him, only for her to greet him with a smile and a hand raised in gentle dismissal.

"If it bothered me, I'd have said something. I know you didn't mean to, you were, well, kind of lost in the moment. Besides," she stepped forward slightly, "I just blasted you across the room. So I'd say we're even."

"I'm still sor-" The words were stolen from him as she pressed her lips to his, mimicking him for just a few minutes prior.

"You know," he began, as she pulled back, "there are easier ways to get me to stop ta-" She kissed him again, stepping back with a smile on her face.

"Yeah. But I like this one." She smiled, "Besides, It was, I-" He watched her wince and bite on her tongue as she tried to translate her thoughts to words, "It was kind of… good. Kind of fun," she started, her gaze dropping out of embarrassment, and her left arm crossing over her stomach, he thumb gently stroking the bruise, though he was sure it was subconscious, "you're a pretty reserved person, you don't show your emotions much and… well- seeing you lose yourself in the moment, it was, it was kind of hot." She said, wincing at the last word.

He opened his mouth to speak as she looked back up at him, but was interrupted before he could. "That and, I'm more concerned about me hurting you, than you hurting me."

His expression shifted to confusion and she continued, "Draco, I used the Stunning spell on you but- but that could have just as easily been the Severing charm… or the Reductor curse. I- I could have really hurt you, I could have killed you. And, and we're taking on Delphini… today, what if she's the one that wakes me up. What if-"

He took her shoulders, her eyes snapping back to his as he did. "Hey, we'll talk to Poppy when we get there. I'm sure she'll have something to help with your nightmares. That woman's a miracle worker." He said softly, though his thoughts were still orbiting what she'd said just prior to her airing her concerns.

"I hope so." 

He smiled, letting her go so she could finish getting dressed, him turning to his wardrobe to do the same. It wasn't long until they were both dressed, both of them choosing similar outfits, built primarily around large knitted jumpers, picking something warm for the undoubtedly cold flight that awaited them. His was a deep grey turtleneck, while hers was more cream, with deep brown accents. It was one she'd bought herself. She always seemed to lean toward cosey, warm, comfortable attire, instead of refined or stereotypically flattering… She looked amazing in it. 

"What?" She asked as she caught him looking at her.

He smiled. "Nothing."

She returned the smile, before grabbing the expanded bag they had purchased yesterday, and, with a flick of her wand, sent the entire contents of her wardrobe flying inside, Draco doing the same.

The bag sat on the floor with two streams of clothing flying inside to arrange themselves in nearly folded piles within the bag's cavernous interior.

After that, and the packing of bed linen, toweling, and any number of other items, Hermione excused herself to the bathroom, him following after she left, and after stepping out, a tap came from the door.

Stepping over, he cracked the door open and, upon seeing Whittle, invited her in.

"Whittle. Perfect timing. We're leaving today, this afternoon, I'm not sure when exactly, so make sure you're ready to go." He whispered, closing the door before speaking normally again.

"V-very well. What about Mrs Lestrange?" She asked, her large eyes panning the room, taking stock of all the missing furniture.

He shifted uneasily, "I'll be dealing with that. I need to go to Gringotts first, but after that at, uh, when I can actually… I'll be dealing with her. Um, Hermione will message you when I set to it, look out for a glowing white otter, it shouldn't be hard to miss," he explained, smiling across at Hermione. "That'll be the message. After that, it'll probably be all go, until we reach the Remnant."

"And Master Malfoy knows where to fly?" 

"Oh, yeah. Forgot to mention," again glancing over at Hermione, "an owl arrived during the night. Pansy. She gave me directions."

"Very well. Wh- Wh…" she closed her eyes and steadied her breathing, before opening them again. "Whittle will be ready."

"Brilliant." He replied, smiling warmly at her. "I really appreciate everything you've done for us, Whittle and, just for my sake, allow me to reaffirm that you don't need to come with us. You are, of course, most welcome, and we'd miss you terribly if you left -- but you're free, Whittle. Free to go and do whatever you like."

He watched as she stepped closer and took his hand. "Whittle knows, Master Malfoy." She then let go and turned to the door, smiling back at them when she reached it. "Whittle would like to stay with you and Miss Granger… with her friends."

He smiled at her, warmly, as she stepped out and closed the door.

"How long has she had that stammer?" Hermione asked.

"I never asked. I've personally made a conscious effort to never react or ask about it. To behave as if she doesn't have a stammer at all… but, from what my parents have said, she didn't have it at Hogwarts. Something about it manifesting sometime after the Battle. I'm putting it down to trauma, that's why I never, you know, acknowledged it. I didn't want her to feel self-conscious about it. But my parents weren't too pleased when it manifested after she joined the household." He began, turning to look at her, "I don't know if ignoring it is the best option, or if I should talk to her about it, I… I really don't know."

She nodded, "Yeah I don't really know either." 

He looked at her, allowing his eyes to run up and down her, drinking in every line, every curve, every detail and commit it to memory. He couldn't believe what she'd said yesterday, when she'd echoed his affections. When he'd told her how he felt, he had been perfectly honest. He hadn't expected her to reciprocate, at all. He had expected her to stop after her initial reply, the one that had sounded to him like a gentle rebuttal, but she hadn't. She'd continued and in the space of a single conversation gave him more than he'd had in his entire life up to that point -- A future he was excited for, a future he wanted to be part of.

"What?" She asked, shaking her head and smiling slightly. "You keep just staring at me like that. What?"

He smiled at her, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Nothing. Just, I don't think you really understand how much you've come to mean to me in such a short time."

She lowered her eyes briefly before looking back at him, a wide happy smile on her face. "We should probably…" she began, opting to gesture loosely at the door in lieu of finishing her sentence.

"Yeah," he replied, taking a deep breath to pull his mind back to the present. "Do you want me to…" also opting to exchange words for action by drawing his wand.

She shook her head, "No. Not today. I want to be me today… all day." 

He smiled, nodding as he put his wand away, and offered his hand for her instead. As she took it, they made for the kitchen, only letting the other go a second before turning in.

"Good morning." He said brightly, taking special care to ruffle Delphini's hair on the way past.

As his greeting was echoed, he poured both himself and Hermione a coffee before sitting down beside her, her surprising him by taking his hand under this table.

"Any plans today Draco?" Lucius asked taking a mouthful of maple syrup drizzled pancake.

"Yes, unfortunately, but not much. Despite all of London at my disposal, I couldn't find a gift for Pansy. Luckily I thought about one last night so I'll go grab it today. Shouldn't take too long. An hour, maybe two. Is there anything anyone else needs from the Alley while I'm there?" 

"Yes, actually. If you could drop this off at the Prophet on your way, it would rather save me a trip." He replied, leaning back to pass a sealed envelope over.

"Not a problem, father. Mother, Auntie… anything I can get you?" He asked, receiving polite, but negative, responses.

"Any other plans for the day, Draco?" Bellatrix asked, her voice seeming to drip with the same syrup that he poured over his breakfast.

His grip on Hermione's hand tightened slightly, hers doing the same. "Well, I'd rather hoped to see more of you, Auntie," he said, allowing similar loading of his words as she had, deliberately casting his eyes up and down as much of her as he could see, "but so far, I've hardly seen any of you."

"That would be lovely." She replied, her eyes filling with heat. "I've been meaning to spend some more time with my favourite nephew."

He smiled, extracting his hand from Hermione's, as much as he loathed to, so he could begin eating his pancakes.

"Are you sure there's nothing you'd like, mother?" He asked, turning his gaze to her.

"Oh, just for you to bring Pansy round for Christmas, or sooner. It was lovely seeing her, and I'm very happy that you two are making a more serious go of things."

He smiled at his mother as he cut another chunk of pancake free. "I will."

Thankfully the rest of breakfast passed swiftly and without incident and he and Hermione soon found themselves in Diagon Alley once again. Purchasing an expanded Moke skin coin purse, he entered Gringotts.

The towering, gilded white marble hall of the bank's main hall was always impressive, and as he moved down toward the primary desk, he could feel the eyes on him from a number of security officers, some of them undoubtedly remembering Hermione from her last trip here. Though he had only heard a few details of what she and Ron and Harry had done here, it had seemed rather spectacular to him and definitely not something the bank was likely to forget.

"Draco." He heard her say, her voice low, nearly imperceptibly so. 

"It's fine. You're my property, remember. At least, as far as this place is concerned anyway." He replied, just prior to stepping up to the main desk.

He didn't even wait for the goblin there to look at him, instead falling back on his arrogant, self-important behaviour that still came so naturally to him. "Draco Malfoy, here to access my family's vault, and I don't have all day."

The goblin behind the desk, an older looking one wearing a finely crafted pair of pince-nez that seemed to sheen with some form of magic, looked up from the vast tome it was reading and surveyed him, before looking across at Granger, his expression growing cold and hard as he did. 

With a snap of his fingers three of the security guards moved to surround them, their wands drawn. Draco immediately drew his own, aiming the tip to the ground and bringing it round in a wide arc, a shimmering, partially transparent bubble of magical force encompassing them both.

"Miss Granger here is quite devoid of her free will at present, and is the property of the Malfoy family -- of me. Any harm comes to her, at all, then this establishment, and it's managers, will understand exactly what happens to those who cross our family." He began, spinning back to look to the clerk. "If you have an issue with Miss Granger's appointment to the Malfoy line, then I suggest you bring it up with its chief architect, the Dark Lord. If not, show me to my vault and never have your lakeys raise their wands at me, or my property, again."

The goblin behind the desk had recoiled slightly, and shrank further at his words. A second passed, wherein Draco held its gaze, before it raised and gently lowered its hand, two of the three guards lowering their wands, the third, Draco noted, relaxing slightly but still aiming at Hermione. 

"I will need to confirm this, Mister Malfoy, as she is listed among the enemies of the bank and-" 

"Confirm all you want, but do not keep me waiting." He interrupted. "The service in this establishment has always been cold, but this is a new low." He continued, calling after the goblin as it retreated through a side door.

He waited for a minute or so, the remaining guard's insistence on pointing his wand at Hermione rapidly becoming infuriating, before he rapidly turned his head, just his head, to face him.

"What's your name?" 

The guard made to step back, but didn't, and, after a noticeable delay, finally replied. "Why?"

"So I know which family to destroy." He glowered, his gaze shifting from the guard's eyes to his wand, noticing it lower to his side completely.

It took another five minutes before the goblin returned, but upon so doing, it apologized for the misunderstanding, Draco ending the protective charm as he did, and then gestured for one of the other goblin staff to take him to this vault.

The journey to the vault was as swift as usual, Draco having to pretend to reapply the Imperius curse after passing through the Thief's Downfall, and soon enough he and Hermione were standing inside the vast Malfoy family vault. Inside were veritable mountains of gold coins, precious works of art, family heirlooms, and all manner of other displays of wealth.

"You may wait outside." He said dryly to the Goblin that had accompanied them, watching it pace outside and disappear from view.

Opening the expanded moke skin bag, he placed it on the floor, casting a brief glance over at Hermione to see her eyes wide and practically reflecting the gold she was seeing.

"None of it was fairly earned, I assure you." He said, before flicking his wand at the towers and mountains of coins causing a glittering stream of wealth to begin flying into the bag. The cascading streams of gold and silver filled the vault with the ring of metal on metal as a stack of books near the back caught his eye. "Hmm, I wonder." 

Pacing over he tilted his head, Hermione appearing at his side to inspect another collection of tomes, to read the spines of the various books. The book he sought was not there, though he hadn't really thought it would be. What did catch his eye however was a brown leather book entitled Dark Sorcerers and Sorceresses of Eastern Europe and Eurasia. His mind returning to Artur Sokolov and the still mysterious origins of the WitchBane.

"What have you got there?" He heard Hermione ask.

"Probably nothing. Just a book about dark wizards and witches that, I hope, might contain something about Artur." He answered, taking the book and turning to face her.

She nodded, turning to look at the rapidly filling coin purse. "We should probably stop that now." 

He nodded, tucking the book underneath his arm and waving his wand to cease the flow of coins. Walking over and grabbing the bag, he was instantly thankful that the extension charm also negated weight, otherwise he'd never be able to carry it with the enormous amount of money it now contained. Looking back at the massed Malfoy wealth, even with the amount he had just taken, there was still more money here than most would ever see in their lifetimes.

"Right, we should probably get back, and I still need to deliver that letter for my father."

He noted that Hermione had been quiet since they arrived in the Alley, doubly so after their near altercation in the bank lobby, undoubtedly trying to maintain her cursed visage. He couldn't wait until they were at the Remnant camp, and she could just be herself without fear of reprisal -- though, he did worry that she was right, that her fears were right, and that the moment they were out from under the weight of their deception, their feelings would change… her feelings would change. He knew his would not, or he hoped that they would not. He couldn't see them changing, as she had brought so much light into his life, but her realising that she was better than this, better than him… that he could see happening, and though he would not stand against it, he prayed that it wouldn't.

The return to the lobby, and their exit into Diagon Alley, was thankfully uneventful. The only thing that delayed them was Draco having to sign the ledger next to his, upon seeing the record, frankly enormous withdrawal. After that they stepped out into the pouring rain, Draco flicking his wand upright to create an umbrella for Hermione and himself to shelter beneath. 

The walk to the Daily Prophet was swift, and after jamming his father's letter through the door, he pulled Hermione to the side.

"Right. I can't think of anything else to do and… Hermione I don't know what to do about Bellatrix." He confessed, his mind being unable to create a viable plan for getting Bellatrix alone.

"Well, she's clearly after, well, more from you than she should be. I mean, you laid some pretty good seeds last night and this morning about a potential rendezvous between you two-" she began, his mind immediately vomiting forth a collection of reasons why he feared that wouldn't work.

"Yeah, but she's not stupid. If I come on too strong she'll smell a rat, and if I take too long she'll equally suspect something. Besides, there's Delphini as well-"

"Volunteer me to look after her. I'm going to be doing it pretty much full time from today onward anyway, and it'll give me the chance to get her prepared for our flight." She began, "And as for getting Bellatrix where you need her… I think that playing it as the nervous Nephew, eager, but nervous, is the best idea. She seemed to get off on that last night, anyway." She reached out and took his hands, him angling himself to further obstruct her from view. "Look, I can do it if you wan-"

He shook his head immediately. "No. No if you try anything she'll be immediately on the defensive, and I can't lose you to her. She's always ready to fight, always. The only chance we have is to distract her."

"We could just have her pass Delphini over, anticipating a rendezvous with you, and then we just leave. We don't- we don't need to kill her." Hermione countered, her voice low.

He shook his head again, lightly. "No. If we leave her alive, neither hell nor high water will keep her from Delphini. If she's gone, the Dark Lord would have pause. He'd feel threatened. I don't know, I just feel that is the safer bet." He looked at her, "Besides, after what she's done, not only to you, but to everyone else… She needs to be stopped." 

"I can't argue with that." She nodded. "I just- I don't want this for you, any more than you do for me. I don't want you to do this for me, I don't want that hanging over our relationship."

"No, I know. I'm not doing it for you, not entirely. I'm doing it because it needs to be done and- and I don't want you having to do it."

"I know, I just… I'm just saying, we can leave without doing this. I don't want you to feel forced into it because of what was done to me."

"I… we have been forced into doing this, and for me it is especially because of what was done to you, but I don't feel forced by you. Not at all." He held her hand tighter. "Right. We should get back."

Instead of apparating, they instead purchase passage on the Floo Network, emerging in the living room of Malfoy Manor in a blinding flash of green light.

"We're home." He called out. "Just going to drop this stuff upstairs, then I'll be down." He continued, heading up stairs to do precisely that before stepping into the kitchen to pour himself and Hermione a fresh cup of coffee to remove the last vestiges of the biting cold from them.

"Ah, Draco, there you are." He heard Bellatrix say, both he and Hermione turning to face her as she moved into the room. "Well, you weren't long at all. I guess we'll get to see more of each other after all." She continued, winking at him as his parents moved in behind her, oblivious to the action.

"Yes, rather looking forward to it. I delivered your letter father. What was it, if you don't mind me asking." He replied, drawing and casting his wand over the kitchen, sending three more cups to be filled.

"Entertainingly enough, it was directly about you, Draco. Rita Skeeter, that deplorable parasite, requested an interview with you in regard to Granger's placement here, that seeming to finally spread about the community, thanks to your mother's tactful dissemination of information." Lucius replied, taking the cup as it floated across, and casting a, to this day, affectionate glance over at his wife.

For all Lucius's flaws, parenting being among them, he worshipped his wife.

"And she asked you?" Draco quizzed, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

"Quite. So I wasted her time and penned a lengthy response that, after several paragraphs, culminated in me telling her to ask you, not me."

He laughed into his cup before taking a sip. "Very nice. I suppose I'll give her the interview though. Be good for the family." He said, replacing his cup. "Anyway. Any plans for the remainder of the day?" He asked, flashing a sideways glance at Bellatrix as the trio sat down.

"Your father and I are going to visit the Notts, we should be back before dinner however." Narcissa replied.

"Oh, Theodore. Give him my best. Wonder what he's doing now." Draco replied, musing.

"He works in the Department of Mysteries. Rebuilding it, specifically the section studying time." Lucius answered.

"Rebuilding it? Yes, I heard some damage had been done by Granger and her lot, but was it bad enough to warrant rebuilding?" 

"No, not them." Bellatrix sneered, looking across at Granger. "After the war, a load of the previous Unspeakables destroyed pretty much everything there. Any remaining prophecies, all the Time-Turners, and the apparatus for making more, anything that could be destroyed, they destroyed. Fucking traitors. It'll take a few years, but we'll have the place up and running again, and better than before."

"And Theodore is working there? As an Unspeakable?" He asked, receiving a nod from his father as he was halfway through a sip. "Impressive. Well, give him my regards, and his family of course."

"You could always come with us." Narcissa interjected, a veiled look of concern in her eyes.

"Oh, well, I've rather promised to spend the day with Bellatrix. Don't really get to see her that often." He replied, knowing exactly how Bellatrix would take it, endeavouring to make his coming task a bit easier.

His mother's lips tightened briefly before she replied. "Of course." She said brightly, smiling across at Bellatrix, though he could see concern in her eyes, feeling safe in his assumption that she was growing more and more concerned with her sister's interest in him.

Lunch was had soon after and consisted of a spread of cooked meats, cheeses, salads, and a collect of breads, all of which Draco enjoyed, ensuring that Hermione also had a healthy quantity and variety, especially given their coming flight.

After which, he sat aimlessly, nervously, in the living room until his parents reappeared. They smiled at him, and then stepped into the fireplace, vanishing in a conflagration of brilliant green.

"Goodbye." He said, just as their forms vanished. His eyes fell as Hermione's hand went to his lap and took a hold of his that rested there.

"You'll see them again, after all this is done." She whispered.

"Yeah, just in time for them to be hauled off to Azkaban, if they survive the Dark Lord's interrogation at all." He replied darkly, the very real possibility that he may never see his parents again, being thrust very urgently to the forefront of his mind.

"They're resourceful, your mother especially. They'll survive, and as for Azkaban… that I can't say."

"Oh, I'm not saying they don't deserve it, after everything they've done, but…"

"Draco. You don't need to defend how you're feeling. They're your parents, through better and worse, and you obviously don't want harm or ill to come to them. You needn't defend that, not to me." She said softly, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

She pulled back as she heard what he did, the sound of footsteps descending the staircase.

"Cissy, when you see the Notts, do- Oh, have they already gone?" She asked, her voice decreasing in volume rapidly as she noted their absence and placed Delphini on the ground, the little girl tottering over to immediately grab one of the toys in the living room.

"Yeah, just missed them." He replied, crushing his worries down under layers of feigned excitement and happiness. He looked over at her, noting the wand on her hip, and her hand resting on her waist just above it -- always ready. Even if he and Granger struck now, she'd be armed in a heartbeat and fighting back with far more skill and ferocity than either of them could muster. No matter what he thought of her, her value to the Dark Lord was evident to anyone who looked at her. She was easily the most capable combatant he could count in his ranks, perhaps even more capable than the Dark Lord himself, were it not for his mastery of the Killing Curse. 

Fighting her was a hopeless, foolish endeavour. 

"Oh, well. Whatever shall we do now?" She asked, her tone instantly shifting to one of lascivity as she began subtly toying with the silken ties on the front of her corset.

"I- uh. I hadn't really thought about it." 

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you Draco?" 

He dropped his eyes, adopting a somewhat nervous disposition as Hermione had suggested. "Well, I hadn't put any serious thought into it, anyway."

"No?"

"No. No it um, seemed like a- a futile pursuit as... Look, I've been thinking, about what we said yesterday-"

"Yes?" She interrupted.

"It… I'm, I'm not really sure if we were talking about the same thing and, and as much as I would like to think we were, or we were heading to the same- the same conclusion, I… I can't possibly, for a minute believe that that was the case. You're my Aunt, and you're… well, you're with the Dark Lord, and-" 

"The Dark Lord has nothing to do with this." She interrupted again, him looking up to see her expression pulled into one of amusement. "My relationship with him is the driving force behind my life, yes. He gave me Delphini, before that he gave me a purpose. He made me the woman I am… but we aren't exclusively for each other, Draco. I'm with the Dark Lord, but you seem to forget that I'm also married. Neither of those relationships are exclusive, nobody owns me, as the fact I'm in both already prevents that from being so. And as for our familial bonds," she said, stepping over and sitting beside him, "I don't see why that has to change just because we decide to enjoy each other in, frankly, better ways. If anything, it would strengthen that, don't you think? Besides, it's not like we're talking about having a child together."

"What are we talking about?" He asked gently, but looking up into her eyes, attempting to replicate some of the hunger that he felt while looking at Hermione.

"Well, what were you thinking?" She asked, her eyes filled with it, as she took his hand and moved it to her thigh, far higher than he expected her to, her dress folding between her legs as he could almost feel the heat of her.

He fought the urge to snatch his hand back, the grimace at the notion, instead tensing his shoulders as he turned to face her. It was difficult, really difficult, trying to get turned on by something that didn't appeal to him in the least. It wasn't that Bellatrix wasn't attractive, as anyone with half a mind could tell she was, as she really was, but the familial bond between them, the one that she seemed to either be able to look passed effortlessly, or perhaps even draw some form of taboo pleasure from, halted any notion, any potentially lustful thought from ever manifesting.

"I'd like," he began, not sliding his hand up further, but gripping her inner thigh instead, "to go somewhere more comfortable, somewhere where, were my parents to return, we wouldn't be interrupted." He said, making his voice sound more forceful, more hungry as he looked at her harder. "Granger can watch Delphini."

She turned on the couch, facing him as best she could as she once again took his wrist and moved it up further, pulling his hand onto her, biting her lip as she did.

"So, we are thinking the same thing." She breathed, bringing a hand up to stroke the side of his face.

"Granger. Look after Delphini, keep her happy and entertained." He said over his shoulder.

"If she gets hungry, there's stuff in the kitchen." Bellatrix added, grabbing Draco's hand from between her legs and getting up, pulling him along with her.

"Of course." She replied, her voice level, but with a hint of hollow happiness in it.

As Bellatrix led him toward the stairs, he glanced backwards at Hermione. Her eyes spoke volumes as she smiled sadly at him as she vanished from view.

As they reached the top of the stairs a brief panic swelled within him as he feared Bellatrix would head for his room, it vanished however as she turned the opposite direction and continued up the stairs again making for the guest room where she had been sleeping. As they reached the door, she opened it roughly before turning and pressing her lips to his. A stab of revulsion hit his chest and he tensed. Just barely suppressing the urge to pull away, he parted his lips allowing her tongue to caress his.

Wanting this over as swiftly as possible, he took her shoulders and pushed her back into her room, kicking the door closed behind him.

Finally she stepped back, breaking their kiss and moved closer to her bed. She was still armed.

"Well, I think we've waited long enough, don't you?" Her voice dripping with purest intent.

He grabbed the hem of his turtleneck and pulled it off over his head, discarding it on the ground beside him.

She was still armed.

He moved his hands to the hem of his simple white tee next, performing the same action, leaving him topless in front of her. He glanced down, seeing the faint scars that Potter had given him in the bathroom at Hogwarts, and catching a pained glimpse of the Dark Mark, shifting on his forearm.

She was still armed. In fact, she hadn't done anything, seemingly content to simply watch him undress.

He moved his hands down to his waist, and began unfastening the button on his jeans before stopping and casting a loaded glance at her.

"Are you just going to stand there? I guarantee you look better under your clothing than I do under mine." He said, injecting no small amount of hunger into his tone.

She smiled back at him, the hunger in her eyes completely genuine. "Well, I don't know about that." Her reply coming just as she grabbed her wand and played it up herself, her corset untying itself before scattering to the ground. 

She was still armed.

He stood still, simply watching her as she had done to him, waiting for her to discard her wand… hoping she would discard her wand. 

With her wand raised after her last, she brought it back down, the fastenings and ties on her dress releasing as she did. With her dress now hanging loose, she slipped her left hand out of the sleeve, the dress falling to reveal the deep purple lace bra beneath. Then, with a flick of her hand, she discarded her wand onto the bed beside her and slid her right arm out.

As the black fabric fell away, revealing the matching purple lace underwear she was wearing, Draco snatched his wand and deftly flicked it toward the bed, though he noted that she was thinner than he'd expected, not unnaturally so, just slimmer than he had envisioned her being.

Catching the length of crooked walnut as it flew toward him, he outstretched his arm and aimed his wand directly at Bellatrix, her face falling into one of shock, though he could see the anger rapidly boiling up behind her eyes.

"Draco! What are you doing?" She exclaimed, moving to take a step forward, forcing a smile onto her face only for it to vanish as he tensed his arm, reaffirming his aim at her. "Draco?"

"Why did you have to do it?" He spat, all of his anger now bubbling up inside him.

"What? We haven't done anything y-"

"Why did you have to have her raped?! She was already beaten, imprisoned, stripped of her family, her friends, her magic, her… dignity. Wasn't that enough?" He could feel the tears beginning to well in his eyes.

"What, Granger? Why do you care, you- oh no. You haven't fallen for her have you? Oh, you stupid little shit, you honestly think she feels the same back? You've had under the Imperius curse since she got here, you really think she'd just going t-"

"She hasn't been under that curse since day one. I took it off her the moment you left-"

"You traitorous little wretch. You'd choose a mudblood over your own family."

She made to move on him, and he couldn't risk her getting her wand.

"Avada Kedavra." He said firmly, jabbing his wand toward her. She stopped and her face brightened and rose into a painfully mocking expression as his spell failed to manifest. 

"Oh dear, Draco. I rather fear your heart's not quite in it." She sneered, her eyes sharpening as he could see her calculating her options. "Not so easy that spell, is it? You really have to mean it." She continued, taking a step forward, out of her crumpled dress.

He tensed again, her stopping as his wand grew steady, the wavering after his failed spell vanishing. 

"So what's the plan, Draco?" She began, her words soft as she took another step forward, him having to step back to keep distance. "Hm? Are you going to disintegrate me?" She took another step. "Blow me up?" Her eyes widening amusedly as she took yet another step.

"Stop moving." He said, the strength he injected into his voice vanishing as soon as the words left his lips.

"I tell you what. I'll give you one last try, and then I'll take that wand from you," she sneered, her voice growing razor sharp as he felt panic wash up inside him, "and send that mewling little mudblood of yours back to those camps, screaming all the way, and this time I'll tell them to take their time while they-"

He didn't even think. He just cast the spell, slashing his wand through the air in front of him. 

She fell silent, and for a moment he thought the spell might have failed, but when the first beads of crimson appeared along her throat, he knew that it hadn't.

His blood ran cold as hers began to run down her chest in a single, unbroken sheet of red.

"Oh god." He whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he dropped both the wands and immediately crossed the distance, catching her as she fell. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He stammered, as he fell to the ground holding her in his arms.

All the anger, all the coldness and violence, all the darkness had left her eyes now, and all that was left was sorrow. Sorrow and fear. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out, air simply escaping through the single, perfectly neat cut across her throat, the bubbles disrupting the flow of blood as his tears fell into it.

Her hand went to his chest, then up to stroke his cheek as he felt her blood begin to soak his jeans and pool beneath him.

"I'm so sorry Bellatrix. I never meant- I never wanted-" he began, a sob coursing up through him and ripping free. He went to speak again, but stopped, recognising the word she was trying to form as her hand began tapping lightly on his chest, her strength bleeding out. 

"I'll look after her." He said, trying to steady his voice as he saw the name of her daughter form on her lips. "I promise Bella. I promise I'll look after her. I'll keep her safe. I'll keep her safe, Bella, I swear. I… Bella- Auntie!" He sobbed, shaking her as her hand fell from his chest, her arm now laying motionless across her blood soaked stomach, and she went limp in his arms.


	14. Chapter 14

**__________**

**Part Fourteen.**

She had, upon Draco and Bellatrix leaving, immediately lowered herself from couch to floor and begun playing with Delphini. She delighted in the bright look that shone from the little girl as Hermione grabbed a toy and joined her. 

She waited a few minutes and listened carefully before assuming she was clear. Leaning forward and kissing Delphini lightly on the top of her head, she drew her wand and attempted to repeat her success from the day before. 

She focused on her memories of Ron and Harry, and her time at Hogwarts. As the grief built she forced images of Draco into her mind, and even a glimmer of Delphini.

"Expecto Patronum." She said firmly, feeling the light that had swollen to fill her chest surge through her arm and spill from the tip of her wand.

Hearing a chuckle from Delphini, she snapped her gaze around to see the young girl pawing toward the glowing otter that floated a few feet in front of her. Smiling, Hermione directed the manifestation down, it spiralling around and playing with the toddler as it did.

"It'll be back in a moment, Delphi, okay." She said brightly, before turning to the Patronus. "Whittle, now. Get what you need, then please watch Delphini for me while I grab the last of our things." She then silently directed the manifestation away, it shrinking once more to fist sized orb of light before zipping upwards through the ceiling.

Within three minutes it had reappeared, reforming into a wispy, blue-white otter, before swimming down through the air to play with Delphini.

Whittle appeared soon after, apparently not having much prep to do, and Hermione immediately headed up to Draco's room. Grabbing the bag and the tent, she moved up to his study and carefully placed the WitchBane and Draco's research inside. From there she enchanted the brooms Draco had bought to float down to the living room, and then followed them.

She sat on the couch, Delphini happily playing with her toys, and couldn't keep her eyes off of the clock. It had been nearly twenty minutes since Draco had been pulled upstairs by his aunt, and she was beginning to worry. She glanced over at Whittle who was fidgeting on the chair, tugging at her outfit.

"Should I- should I go check?" She asked, Whittle's eyes shifting to her as she asked.

"Whittle doesn't know. Miss Granger could inadvertently interrupt."

"That's what I'm worried about, but it's been a long time." She agreed, casting her eyes toward the stairs. 

She couldn't take it anymore. So many things could have gone wrong. She had to make sure he was alright. 

"To hell with it." She muttered, pushing herself up off of the couch, snatching up the bag as she did, remembering that they would be best served packing up all of Delphini's current clothing. "Whittle, can you grab any of Delphine's stuff that's laying around, please?" She asked, not waiting for the answer before she moved up the stairs, two steps at a time.

For some reason, the closer she got to Bellatrix's room, the more worried she became, and by the time she reached the door she had images of Draco laying dead at Bellatrix's feet in her mind. She reached for the door handle, having to work to suppress her desire to simply barge in, and instead lightly tapped on the door before adopting her best hollow tone.

"Draco?" 

She swallowed hard when no answer came, fighting to keep her voice level.

"Draco? Bellatrix?"

She reached behind her and placed her fingers on her wand, ready to draw it as she slowly pressed the handle of the door down and pushed it open.

"Draco-" her voice failed as she looked around the door and saw him, sitting in a pool of blood, with Bellatrix laying lifeless in his lap. She forced her voice to work and she ran over to him. "Draco!" He didn't react.

She dropped to her knees, sliding across the floor. "Draco." He sat still, just looking down at the body in his lap. "Draco, talk to me. Draco!" She called out, reaching up to gently take his face and angle him away from the body on his lap and instead to face her. "Draco." She panickedly pressed her lips to his, wiping the dry tear tracks on his cheeks away with her thumbs as she did.

Pulling back she saw awareness return to his eyes as he blinked and immediately went to look back to his lap.

"No. No. Look at me, Draco. It's fine, just look at me."

"I didn't mean to- the spell didn't work and she- she was going to hurt you and send you ba-" he began as she saw a look in his eyes appear, a look that she imagined he had seen in her eyes before. He was about to start spiralling.

"Shhh, you did what you had to, Draco. It's fine. Draco," she said his name again as his head began to turn, firming her grip on his cheeks. "Draco, come on. Delphini needs us, okay? That little girl needs us." She leaned up and kissed his forehead, "Look at me okay?" She grabbed her wand and glanced swiftly at Bellatrix's body, her blood coating the majority of her now lifeless form.

"Evanesco." She said firmly, pointing her wand at the body and causing it to vanish into non-being.

His head snapped around to face his lap as the weight suddenly vanished. 

"No, we can't just hide her. She needs to be buried, we can't-" He began, turning to face her. 

He seemed like a different person. He was vulnerable, more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him. His voice was strained. All the strength, all the arrogance -- which was certainly less now than it had been during his years at Hogwarts, all of his strangely endearing cockiness, all of it was gone. He was like a scared child, a scared and guilty child.

"I'm not going to." She interrupted him, her hands taking his. "I'm just getting her somewhere safe so we can sort you out and get you down to Delphini, okay? We need to go. To go to our friends, right?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember." He replied, though he still seemed dazed.

"Right, come on." She said softly, easing him to his feet, only then realising that he was topless and his jeans were sodden with blood. "Okay. Wait there for a sec." She smiled, stepping back and pointing her wand at his trousers. "Scourgify." 

The blood vanished in an instant, turning into red mist before vanishing.

"Right. Everything is set. Just get your top back on, don't forget your wand, and go sit with Delphini and Whittle, okay? I'll be down after I get Bellatrix dressed and presentable." She took his hand as he went to move, him looking over, her finding his eyes with hers. "You did what you needed to, Draco, not just for us, but for Delphi, and for everyone else. I won't leave her crumpled on the floor, I promise."

He swallowed and nodded, wetting his dry lips before heading for his wand, his top, and the door.

She turned and spelled the blood on the floor away. After hearing the door close, she blinked the vanishing away, Bellatrix returning in exactly the place she'd been, Hermione deftly catching her with a silent casting before she fell the few inches which Draco had previously occupied.

With another casting of the Scouring Charm, the blood coating her form vanished. Casting her eyes and her wand around, she elevated Bellatrix's outfit and redressed her, ensuring every tie and every fastening was perfect, before floating the body to the bed and placing her gently upon it, her head resting on the pillows.

Turning around, she snatched up the crooked walnut wand before moving over and placing it in Bellatrix's hand, moving her hands to be holding each other atop her stomach. She looked almost peaceful, were it not for the open wound across her throat. 

There was little Hermione could do about that, but what little she could do, she would. 

"Episkey." She said softly, playing her wand slowly over the wound that she had to stop herself from grimacing at. The healing spell wouldn't do much, what with Bellatrix being dead, but what little healing the spell could stimulate in a recently deceased corpse might be enough for what she needed.

She watched as the wound slowly closed, the flesh sluggishly reforming. Had she been alive it wouldn't have saved her, but from a cosmetic standpoint the open laceration across her throat had been replaced with an angry red line, which Hermione was sure classified as an improvement over an open throat.

She had no love for Bellatrix. None at all. She loathed her as entirely as a person could hate another, but she was still Draco's family, and though he knew she needed to die, and had done so himself, it had pained him immensely to do so. If she could lessen that, even fractionally, by tidying up the corpse and giving Bellatrix some posthumous dignity, then she would.

She turned from the bed, before looking back.

"I'm sorry, Bellatrix. You- you forced our hand. I- I hope you're at peace though, finally." She said softly, before turning and, with a slash of her wand, wrenching every drawer and every wardrobe in the room open. 

She spent the next few minutes grabbing everything of Delphini's and placing it in the bag, ensuring to grab cuddly toys and blankets as she had no idea if the little girl had any attachments to any of them. 

Stepping toward the door she stopped. Looking across at the ensuite bathroom, she placed the bag down and moved over. Opening the door she saw exactly what she had suspected. A cauldron, undoubtedly enchanted to heat without flame, filled with an unmistakable slurry that Hermione knew to be Polyjuice Potion. Dipping her finger in, she tasted a tiny amount, far too little for her to experience the effects, but sufficient to tell her that it needed about a day or two to be ready.

"I truly hope you're at peace now Bellatrix, because I doubt you ever experienced any during your life… Damn, what a disturbed individual. Reducto." She flicked her wand at the cauldron, disintegrating it and its contents.

Stowing her wand, she moved swiftly over to the door, snatched up the bag, and stepped out. As desperate as she was to get to Draco, she went via his room first and picked up the note he had written for his parents, and upon finally entering the living room she saw him entertaining Delphini with castings of Flagrate, writing her name, or drawing stick figures in midair, all in different colours of flame. Delphini was enthralled by the display, but she could see in Draco's eyes that he was still partially absent, his mind still reeling from what he'd just done -- what he'd had to do.

"Draco." She said softly, stepping in, the bag slung over her shoulder. He looked up and smiled at her, though he seemed to look at her face, as opposed to her eyes, not seeming to want to make eye contact. "Do you want Delphini on your broom, or do you want me to take her?" She asked, not pushing him on the eye contact, but mindful that he might fear she saw him differently. 

"Oh, I'll take her on mine. You said you weren't confident on a broom, and having a passenger, even a miniature one, makes it harder." He replied, trying to inject the same amount of confidence into his voice as was usually present, though she could feel how artificial it was. 

"Yeah, good idea. I can barely keep myself on a broom." She joked, placing the note carefully on the couch so that it would be the first thing Narcissa and Lucius saw when they returned.

"Well, if you fall off and die, I'll never forgive you." He smiled, a spark of his usual self returning, albeit briefly.

She walked over to him, noting Delphini watching her as she did, and gently took his forearms as he stood up. His eyes continued flitting, seemingly struggling to settle on hers, but she held him there until they did.

"I love you." She said firmly, holding his eyes in hers, ensuring that no confusion or doubt could be taken from this moment.

He swallowed, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I love you, too."

"Let's go." She kissed him briefly, before letting go and moving back. She rummaged through the bag, ultimately giving up and using her wand to fetch some warmer clothing for Delphini, passing them to Draco who wrapped the little girl up warm.

"Going to be a bit cold out Del, but we get to fly." He said, smiling at the little girl as he tugged the clothing on.

Minutes passed, Hermione and Draco telling Whittle exactly where in the Forest of Dean she should apparate to, before she found herself standing on the front step of Malfoy Manor. It was cold, as she'd expected, and the rain was still present. The flight from the manor would take about an hour, the brooms Draco had bought would have been able to do it in half that time at full speed, but with Delphini as a passenger, as well as the tent and extra luggage weighing them down, she decided a more conservative pace would be better.

Adjusting her load, the tent and the bag, she mounted her broom and firmly kicked up off the ground. It wobbled slightly, her being unused to flying with extra cargo, but after a second or so she had it leveled out and steady. Looking down, she watched as Draco swung his leg over his, before Whittle helped him place Delphini in front of him. Reading his lips, she watched as he cast the Sticking Charm, affixing Delphini's tightly fastened coat to his.

He kicked up, finding the center of balance swiftly before conjuring up the same umbrella of force he had used earlier, but this time holding it along with the broom to create a windshield for the toddler.

Leaning slightly forward, he gained altitude and began pulling away from the building. She followed before easing herself to a stop, turning back to look at the attractive Manor, and drawing her wand.

"Bombarda Maxima!" She exclaimed, performing the whip-crack gesture the spell was famed for, and causing the window and wall of Draco's room to explode inwards in a shower of dust, rubble, and splinters.

Turning back, stowing her wand, she squinted through the rain to see Draco looking at her, confusion on his face.

"It will help the story of you being kidnapped!" She called back across the distance.

"Pretty sure you just wanted to destroy the house!" He called back, an amused smile on his face.

"A little bit, don't judge me!" She laughed, pulling her broom alongside his.

He smiled at her before leaning forward and peeling off again, angling his broom toward their destination. She fell in behind him, and tried to get comfortable for the hour long flight.

She'd be flying for a total of ten minutes before becoming thoroughly bored with the wind and rain. The cold was biting at her fingers and stinging her cheeks, and the rain, combined with the wind and the speed at which she was travelling, felt like hundreds of needles hammering into her flesh. Were it not for the fact that she had seen Draco place her facing inwards, she would be worried about how Delphini was coping. With her snuggled into Draco, a position that she found herself longing for more and more as the minutes past, and the clothing they had wrapped her in, and the windshield Draco had spelled into being, she was sure the little one was doing just fine -- if not asleep already.

Another ten minutes passed before she finally caved and reached around to grab her wand. She had tried to muscle through, fearing that she might drop the wand with the combination of numbing cold and wind, but she couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing her wand, she made sure she had a firm grip on it before pulling it free.

Focusing on the spell, she willed the same transparent umbrella that Draco had into being, then took her wand back to her broom to hold both simultaneously. It completely cut the rain out, her painfully numb hands no longer being pelted by the razor sharp droplets, but it only marginally reduced the wind. Still, it was better than nothing.

Normally she would have suggested they flew above the cloud cover, but she had no idea how that would be for Delphini, with the oxygen being thinner, and she hadn't had the chance to research it.

She spent the remainder of the flight fantasizing about Draco's mattress that he had, in a stroke of genius, decided to cram into the tent. That combined with the duvet, the pillow, crisp white linen, and Draco himself… She couldn't wait for that warmth. Couldn't wait to lose herself in it and drift off to sleep away from all the pretending, away from his parents -- away from Bellatrix. She couldn't wait to spend their first evening together, as a couple, without anything hanging over them.

She perked up, her eyes shifting as a thought dawned on her. No, they wouldn't be a couple… They would be a family now. Delphini made them a family.

"I'm going to need so much help." She muttered to herself, before trying to shrink her form as much as possible in an attempt to lessen how cold she was getting.

After the most two hour long hour she had ever experienced, the Forest of Dean was stretched out beneath them, and she soon saw Draco begin to gently spiral downward. The last time she'd been here, well the time before last actually, had been with Ron and Harry during their hunt for the Horcruxes. It hadn't been that long ago, but so much had happened in that time that it felt like a lifetime.

Forcing herself back to the moment, she accelerated down after Draco and landed next to him in a small clearing. Less than a handful of seconds after touching down, the world to her left seemed to part. Turning to look, her closer to it than Draco, by design on her part, she saw as the familiar figures of Lavender and Pansy, albeit Pansy still wearing her mask, appeared, walking towards them.

She climbed off her broom and quickly crossed the distance, pulling them both in as she reached them, an arm around each.

"It's so good seeing you. We've uh… we've had a day. Delphini is here and…" she lowered her voice, "Bellatrix is- well, she's dead. Draco did it and he's taking it pretty hard so-" 

"Say no more." Lavender smiled, a look of knowing and recognition in her eyes, Hermione remembering what Pansy had told them about her past. "Draco, and little Delphini!" She called over Hermione's shoulder, stepping sideways and beckoning them both as Draco ended the charm affixing Delphini to him. "Come in, it's warm and dry in here."

She waited for Draco to reach her before following Lavender's invitation and stepping into the camp. The moment she did her clothes and hair dried instantly, all the moisture being torn free, leaving her warm and dry -- a most welcome change. The fire in the center was larger than it had been during their last visit, and she saw Whittle talking to a couple of the Remnant, a wide smile on her face as she seemed to be directing a pair of them, the three working together to prepare a meal under her direction.

She turned in time to see Pansy pull Draco in, only for her to let go and lavender to do the same, Draco's expression shifting to one of surprise.

"I- I didn't realize we were on hugging terms." He smiled awkwardly, but returned the hug regardless. 

"Well," Lavender replied, releasing him and stepping back. "My wolf here says you're good," she began, nodding over to Pansy, her deep wood Wolf mask still in place, "and Hermione trusts you implicitly. So... We're good."

"I'm glad, uh- this is Delphini. Come here, love." He smiled genuinely before hunkering down and holding his hands out for the unsure looking Toddler, Lavender and Pansy hunkering down beside him as she did the same.

"Hello little D." Lavender smiled widely, the silken scarf she wore to conceal her scars matching the bow she wore in her hair, and rustling Delphini's hair as she got closer. "We've all been looking forward to meeting you."

"She's lovely, she really is." Hermione said, smiling as Lavender looked across at her. "And, apparently, has a tendency to float herself out of her bed at night… so that'll be interesting."

Lavender's eyes went wide at the concept before chuckling.

Hermione looked across at Pansy, "Why are you still wearing that?" She asked, referring to the mask. "It won't be safe for you in the W.I. anymore -- not after how involved you've been with us. They'll suspect you, immediately." 

"Yeah, I know, I just-" she began to respond, her voice also distorted by the obfuscation she had chosen to continue to employ.

"No." Lavender interjected, taking her by the hand and standing up, Draco scooping up Delphini and standing as well. "Hermione is right. I want you here with me, I don't want you going back to those people -- especially not now." She turned to face the camp, not giving Pansy time to reply. "Could I have everyone's attention!" She yelled out, her wand appearing at her throat, amplifying her voice, though Hermione hadn't even noticed her reach for it.

The assembled Remnant turned to look, heads poking out of tents, Poppy, Irma Pince, and Argus Filch among them.

"We have four new members joining our family today. Two of them you know, two you probably don't. We've got Whittle," she began, gesturing over to the house elf, still wearing a broad smile. "Draco Malfoy, a person I'm sure you never expected to see here, but he is most welcome. Hermione Granger," she paused as a collection of applause broke out, Hermione shrinking under the attention. "Someone we are very thankful to have with us, and someone who has been missed terribly. Then we have little Delphini here," she gestured to the little girl still in Draco's arms, "She's-"

"She's with Draco and myself!" Hermione called out, noting that Draco was still getting unusual glances. "We'll be caring for her… though we-"

"Will always have help on hand." Poppy called out, a look of supreme pride in her eyes as she looked at her, Draco, and Delphini.

"And lastly," Lavender continued, attention returning to her. "You've all seen our resident Inquisitor moving around the camp -- some of you even fighting beside her. Well, as of today, and due to circumstances beyond our control, her position with the Inquisition has become untenable. So she'll be joining us permanently." She paused, turning her back to the crowd to look at Pansy, her wand dropping, the amplification ending, but her voice still loud and proud. "One of the bravest women I've ever known. Pansy Parkinson." She swept the mask aside, it turning to dust, then vapour, then nothingness, as she pulled her in and kissed her.

The kiss didn't last long, though Hermione knew that was for the sake of the crowd and not Lavender or Pansy, Lavender soon turning to face the group again. 

"You all trusted her before the mask came off, laughing with her, joking with her, fighting beside her… it was always her beneath that mask. We are lucky to have her. As for Malfoy. He was instrumental in getting Hermione to us and," she paused, turning to look at him. "And I trust him." She turned back. "So, make them feel welcome."

The next hour was spent talking to the members of the Remnant, mostly simple pleasantries, but it was genuinely good to see many of them. She did notice, taking a few seconds to watch and smile at him, Draco approach the central fire and, leaving a faint trial of white vapour behind his wand, draw an age line around it.

"He's quite surprising." She heard a voice sound from behind her, turning to see Poppy standing there, smiling at Draco in the distance, a diluted, bit still detectable, hint of pride in her eyes.

"Yeah. Yeah, he is." She agreed, taking a step closer to her.

"Can't be easy for him here. I mean, nearly everyone here, aside from us," she began, referring to the inner circle at the height of the Remnant, "probably would have attacked him without a second thought if given the chance, and he probably knows it."

"Yeah. I'm torn between staying by his side, or giving him space to acclimatize, to… to find his feet and give the other members of the Remnant a chance to see in him what I see." She agreed, turning to look at Draco as he hunkered down again, arms open, to catch Delphini as she tottered closer.

"Give it some time, perhaps." Poppy replied. "I must admit, he seems to have no qualms or hesitation in regard to this unplanned parenthood."

"No." Hermione smiled. "No he, uh, he took to it in a flash. It's a way to really do some good in the world, so he says. He's committed to trying to outweigh the evils he's done, despite, in my opinion, him having already done so. He… he over values his contribution to the Dark Lord's victory, but he won't hear it. Still, Delphini needs people to care for her, and Draco refuses to see her raised how he was."

"And what about you?" Poppy asked, her eyes warm and supportive as Hermione turned to face her.

"Me? Well, the same I guess."

"No, not your motivations. Those are clear. How do you feel about it?"

"I…" she turned to look at Draco and Delphini, Draco now talking to Pansy and another girl she recognised but couldn't name. "I'm scared. He is too, though he hides it. I mean this wasn't- this shouldn't be a thing. I have no idea how to raise a child, and neither does he… his guiding light is to simply not do what his parents did- and that's fine, to raise her to be healthy, happy, loved, and not a close-minded prejudicial monster like her blood parents. But I'm hung up on the details."

"Miss Granger." Poppy smiled, a faux-scolding tone in her voice. "Hermione. Nobody knows what they're doing when they first become a parent -- nobody. You'll worry, you'll doubt, and you'll undoubtedly make mistakes… but children are more resilient than adults give them credit. I spent years learning that lesson by watching children go through such hardships and become truly exceptional adults." She continued, Hermione smiling, though feeling awkward at the compliment. "You are more than just a brilliant witch, you are a brilliant young woman, and I have no doubt that you will raise an equally brilliant child. Don't get hung up on details, go with your instincts, you may not have maternal instincts yet, but I guarantee within a week you will have. And if you have any issues, any problems, I am always here to help. And as for Draco," she paused looking over at him, Hermione turning to see him scan the crowd before seeing her and begin to move over. "A powerful desire to do right by Delphini can only be a good thing." She paused, smiling at Draco as he joined them, her reaching to offer her finger to Delphini, the little girl taking it briefly, smiling. "Mister Malfoy. It's lovely seeing you again."

"Madam Pomfrey." He replied, inclining his head and smiling. "Have you asked her?" He quizzed, turning to look at her.

"Asked me what?" Poppy mused, looking across the pair.

"No, not yet. I- I've been having nightmares… bad ones, and if I'm woken from them I- well, I blasted Draco across the room earlier." She explained.

"Oh dear."

"Yeah. It was only the Stunning Spell but it could-"

"It could have been much worse, yes. I see. Well, resources are limited, obviously, but I could give you some potions that will make your sleep dreamless-" Poppy interjected, understanding the issue instantly.

"That would be wonderfu-" Hermione began, before falling silent when Poppy continued.

"But that is only a stopgap. It won't help you, you'll just be reliant on them. It can help in the short-term, but ultimately it's only hiding the problem." She stopped, Hermione seeing thoughts rolling around in her eyes before she spoke again. "I'm not the only healer here, I have an- an apprentice, if you will, she could easily be studying at St. Mungo's but, well…" she let the statement hang for a moment before continuing. "I believe you may be familiar with her, Erica. Erica Rowe, she was in Slytherin with you, Draco."

"Yeah, I was just talking to her." Draco replied, casting a glance over at Hermione. 

"That's who that was. I thought she looked familiar." Hermione said, suddenly remembering her, though also recalling that she had had very little to do with her during their time at Hogwarts.

"Yeah I- well, I didn't really spend much time with her at school. She was… she was below my station... and I was a dick." He winced.

"Well," Poppy continued, their attention returning to her. "She's a gifted healer, and though my skills are, as you'd expect, superior, given my experience, she has a fascination and a natural aptitude with maladies of the mind that I could never compete with. Curses, magical damage, physical ailments… I can heal those in a heartbeat, but she has an affinity with the mind that few can match."

"So she studies mental illnesses?" Hermione asked, falling back on the Muggle descriptor.

"Yes, and though I don't consider you to have one, nightmares are, by definition, a malady of the mind… a psychological ailment, as opposed to a physical one. I can provide some therapy, and someone to talk to, but I feel Erica would be a better fit for what you need. I, of course, won't force you to see her -- I understand it can be difficult opening up to a fellow student about issues as deep-seeded as emotional trauma, but-"

"No I… I'll talk to her. If you trust her, then that's good enough for me." Hermione smiled.

Madam Pomfrey smiled, looking her and Draco over. "You- all of you, you've had to mature so much faster than the world had any right to demand… I'm so very proud of you. Not just you two, but Lavender, Erica, Pansy… all of you. So very proud." She smiled, before she shifted seeing how uncomfortable her praise made the two of them. "Well, uh, I'll go talk to Erica. You two should mingle some more, I'm sure there are plenty of others who would like to talk to you." She smiled again, taking extra care to give Delphini a big warm smile before turning and strolling off, her head held high trying to look over the mass of individuals.

"Mingle, huh?" Draco asked, turning to look at her.

"Awkward?" She replied, drawing on what Poppy had said.

"A little, but Pansy and Lav are doing what they can, and the fact I'm with you certainly lends me some credibility."

"Do you want to stay with me?" She asked.

"Always," he replied, smiling, though it took less than a second for her to notice that he was talking about something else entirely, to which she smiled and snaked an arm around his waist before he continued, "but I should probably," he gestured out to the small crowd of milling people, "make myself available for conversation… that and Filch has been looking at me pointedly for a while."

"Filch?" She quizzed, looking around but not finding the ornery ex-caretaker.

"Yeah. I think he wants to talk, but doesn't know how to approach. Besides, didn't Lavender say he wasn't as bad as all that?" 

"She did, though I struggle to believe it." She chuckled, unwrapping her arm and offering to take Delphini. "Want me to have her for a spell, let you chat?" 

"Oh, sure, yeah." He replied, shifting Delphini before handing her over. "Here you go," he said to the little girl, "spend some time with Mum."

Mum.

The word struck her. She knew that that was what she was to Delphini now, but the title held so much weight with it -- she couldn't help but find it intimidating.

She shook her mind loose and immediately knelt down, placing Delphini on the soft grass so she could walk around, before standing back up. "We'll pop back to our bags, get some of her toys. You… you go break the ice." She smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss was brief, not lasting even fractionally as long as she would have liked, but long enough for her to note the modicum of attention it had drawn.

He smiled at her, before blowing a kiss to Delphini and turning to walk toward a figure she hadn't noticed before. Argus Filch.

A few moments passed as she slowly picked her way through the crowd, Delphini holding her hand and happily pottering along beside her, but soon enough she had retrieved a pair of Delphine's favourite enchanted toys from the bag and settled in to watch the little girl play.

"So," she heard Lavender begin as she walked over, a broad smile on her face. "You and Draco. That little kiss of yours made a wave." 

She immediately felt a wash of nerves and concern course through her as she lowered her head. "You must think pretty poorly of me, huh?"

"What?" Lavender said, shock evident and sincere in her voice. "No, why?"

"Well…" she paused. "Ronald, of course. We-"

"Granger. No." Lavender said firmly, moving over and putting an arm around her shoulder. "No. Christ, the fact you're worried about that so much shows that he is still important to you. Hermione- Hermione I came over to tell you I was happy for you, and… maybe, kind of hoping to catch a bit of gossip… you know, a few details." She chuckled, Hermione becoming keenly embarrassed that Lavender automatically assumed that she was in a position to give the details she was after. "I wouldn't- couldn't ever judge you over this, nor should anyone else. I- Well I had a crush on Ron, we butted heads pretty badly over that, if you recall, but I know, and everyone knows that you loved him… that you still love him, and that you must miss both him and Harry dearly. But at the same time, I can't imagine anyone expecting you to be beholden to a- to a memory. To live mourning a stolen future, instead of carving a new one. Nobody should expect that of you, of anyone… and if anyone does, their opinion isn't one you should value." She slipped her arm free, moving around to face her, gazing at her firmly. "I'm happy for you, Hermione. Really."

Feeling embarrassed at her error, Hermione decided that lightening the mood might be wise. "And what makes you think that I have the… the details you came for?" She asked, smiling amusedly.

"Well, it's not hard to see something is going on between you two." Lavender began. "I was there when he said what he said, and I saw how you reacted. Then… well-"

"Pansy?"

"Yeah, Pansy." 

They both chuckled.

"Pansy does like to talk and hypothesize," Lavender continued, "and you two are her favourite topic of conversation -- all good, of course. Then, of course, there's the big one… or little one, as the case may be." She smiled down at Delphini. ''I can't imagine Hermione -evaluate every single variable before acting- Granger would enter into, well, parenthood, with Draco Malfoy is she wasn't pretty sure about it." She concluded smiling warmly at her as she stepped back, the severity of their conversation lessening to the point where such proximity was no longer called for.

"Well, you seem to have it all figured out." Hermione smiled.

"No. Don't you dare play that. I want details, come on Hermione. Nothing fun ever happens around here, it's all serious this, defeat the Dark Lord that… I need something. Give me details, girl." She laughed, her right arm crossing over her chest as her left moved to rest on it, her hand toying with her long hair.

"Okay, okay." Hermione chuckled, feeling like she was back in the Gryffindor dorm again, gossiping with her friends on a Friday night. "We- it's pretty new, okay. We, well, after what you heard him say, we didn't really talk about it, but then, he- he just came out and told me." She saw Lavender's smile widen, an expression she hadn't seen since Hogwarts coming over her, the face of a giddy and excited teenager. "We were in this cafe, a Muggle place, and he just- he just told me he loved me. He was all, I don't expect you to feel the same, but…"

"You did."

"Yeah." She couldn't believe how wonderful it felt to tell her this, to share. Madam Pomfrey had been right, everyone had had to mature so much, so fast, that she often forgot that they were still in their teens. "Yeah, I didn't want to. The first time I saw him, as me not as a mind controlled husk, when he removed the curse the day I was given to him, I- I hated him. I thought the worst of him, in every way… but…" she stopped, getting lost in her reminiscing, "He's changed so much. He's… he's who he is really is now, not the entitled weasel his parents turned him into and- and he's just infuriatingly, impossibly endearing. I- before I knew what was even happening I-" she paused, seeing the brimming excitement in Lavender's eyes, expectantly and impatiently awaiting her to say the words. "I'd started to love him."

She hadn't heard Lavender squee for a long time, so long that she'd forgotten what it sounded like. But as Lavender did, she couldn't help but smile, happiness flooding her.

"So?" Lavender asked, her breath bated.

"So?"

"Don't play dumb! Have you guys, you know… had sex?" Her voice dropping considerably, as if she didn't want Delphini to hear, despite the fact that the girl was paying them no mind as she tried to catch enchanted fireflies of pure light that were being created by a gently spinning golden orb that floated about a foot off the ground.

"Oh my god, Lav. We are not talking about that." She laughed, instantly lowering her voice.

"Oh, oh we are so talking about that." Lavender continued, giddy excitement in her voice. "Come on, tell me. You have, haven't you? Tell me. Tell me."

"We're not talking about this."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Tell me. Tell me. Tell m-"

"Okay. Yeah, fine, yes-" She shifted uneasily, though couldn't ignore the sense of excitement and happiness she felt. Not about talking about it, but of the entire tone and energy to their conversation. It was stupid, and immature, and happy, and she'd missed that. "Yes we've… we've done it a- a couple of times." 

Lavender let out a quiet squeal and playfully shoved her shoulder. "I knew it. Okay, okay okay. Boxers or Y-Fronts?"

"Lav!"

"Come on."

She couldn't keep the smile off her face as Lavender looked at her with immature, excited, expectation. "It depends what mood he's in. He doesn't have a preference."

"Hmm, okay." She shifted her hands in front of her, raising her index fingers and placing them parallel and touching each other. "Just say when." She said, before slowly pulling her hands apart.

It took a second for Hermione to realize what she was getting at, what she was asking, but the moment it did she felt her cheeks flush red. "Lav. No!" She laughed out.

"Just say when." Lavender said again, resetting her fingers.

"Lav, no. Not doing this." Hermione protested again, unable to wipe the wide smile from her face.

"Just say when." Lavender repeated, once again placing her fingers together.

"Nope. Not- not happeni-." Hermione shook her head.

"Jus- just, just say when. Just say when." Lavender continued, constantly resetting her fingers.

"Oh for crying out loud, Lav." She laughed, her eyes never leaving the slowly expanding gap between her fingers. "W-When." She laughed as Lavender's fingers reached a distance apart comparable to his big Draco was. She looked down briefly, a ridiculously wide smile on her face, embarrassed, before looking up to see Lavender with an impressed look in her eye.

"Damn, girl."

"Look, no more questions. Okay? I don't see you sharing how yours and Pansy's first time wa-"

"Hot and clumsy." Lavender replied, her smile not wavering for a moment, continuing after Hermione's shock at her sudden revelation of somewhat sensitive information had subsided slightly. "Yeah, neither of us had much, or any, experience with a girl before so… yeah, but, uh, we had fun figuring it out." She concluded laughing. "Oh, god, it's great having you here." She smiled, stepping forward and throwing her arms around Hermione's neck.

"It's great being here." Hermione replied, wholly honestly. "I've missed you." She laughed, returning the hug.

"I know," Lavender continued, her voice growing more serious as she pullee back. "we butted heads a bit at Hogwarts. Not just over Ron, we- we never were as close as perhaps we should have been, but… I did always consider you a friend, even with how different we were sometimes."

"Yeah, me too. I- I could be pretty judgemental at times, especially about your interests and that," Hermione began, her hands knotting together. "And, yeah, things got pretty dim between us, what with Ron. I- I should have- I should have said something to Ron so much earlier, for so many reasons, not least of which that all of that could have been avoided. I'm sorry for my part in our troubles at school, but, I'm so glad you're okay, Lav."

"A whole lot of things would've be done differently if we knew then what we know now, huh?" Lavender smiled. "I'd have never have gone for Ronald… stupid crush, didn't even last that long. No, I would have grabbed Pansy, dragged her away from all that dark, and just never let her go. Still... All we can do is make the most of the now, right?" She asked rhetorically. "So, let's do that. Tomorrow there'll be a briefing, well, more of a brainstorming session. You and Draco are not only invited, but encouraged to come. We'll be discussing what we plan to do next."

"Oh, brilliant, I have some ideas." Hermione approved, her smile subsiding, though not vanishing.

"Cool. Well, save them for tomorrow. Actually," she paused looking around, Hermione taking the opportunity to check on Delphini. "Where is Draco?"

"Oh, last I saw he was heading to talk to Filch, something about Filch trying to get his attention, in his own inimitable way." Hermione replied, hunkering down so as to make Delphini feel less alone, if that was even something toddlers felt. She honestly had no idea.

"Oh, yeah. He's a good man, just takes a while to see it."

She didn't reply, instead simply casting a really confused look at her. She knew it was somewhat hypocritical, her being with Draco, and hoping that everyone would give him a chance to show that he was good, while simultaneously being unable to fathom Filch being anything other than the cantankerous man she'd known in school, but she couldn't help it.

"Really." Lavender continued, hunkering down as well. "He helped Poppy save me, dragged me to the great hall, by himself, with Death Eaters all around, so she could treat and heal me. He did the same for plenty of others too, risking his life, no way to defend himself, to try and save kids that had, for the most part, treated him like dirt. It was after I learned that, that I put the effort into getting to know him."

"But, everything he said and did? He was… he was pretty horrible." Hermione replied, curious.

"Well, see it from his perspective. Born to a magical family, but with no magical ability himself. He wants to be a part of this world, a world he has a right to be part of, but Wizards and Witches view him as lesser, as worse than them, simply because they got lucky and he didn't… and luck is all it is. We all have magical ability through blood and luck. He has the blood… just not the luck." She began. "He tries to live and work, but is shunned, constantly ridiculed, and options aren't exactly numerous for a squib. Finally he gets a job for life at Hogwarts, a place where he would be surrounded by young minds and hearts, maybe a place where his presence might have subsequent generations see squibs differently. But what does he find? Year after year of entitled children, looking down on him, and taunting him for something that they didn't earn… they, like the witches and wizards from his own youth, shunned him simply because they'd gotten lucky, and he hadn't. So, it twisted him. Years and years of ridicule by entitled kids, not having anywhere else to go, and refusing to leave a world that is as much his as it is ours, disillusioned him of the magical world. But then, when push came to shove, he refused to just sit idly by while a monster murdered children." She smiled, Hermione slowly doing the same, disappointed in herself for not considering that earlier. "No. He's a good man… and a friend. He's different now, now people are starting to see him for who he is, not what. I think he's starting to see a future, after the Dark Lord is gone, where other squibs wouldn't have to go through what he did."

"Not too dissimilar to Draco then. A good man, twisted by cruel circumstance." Hermione mused, seeing the similarity.

"Exactly. Probably why he wants to talk to him."

"And he and Pince are-" Hermione began, receiving her answer by nod, confirming the rumoured relationship that the two had had during her years at school. "And Mrs Norris, is she-"

"Oh, she's still alive… somehow. Still problematic that cat, she never warmed to me, even after he had… but then, I imagine she can probably sense my whole, uh, lupine nature. She's useful though. Haven't seen a single rat here."

"Well, I doubted she killed them, probably just turned them to stone with a glare. That cat is terrifying." Hermione laughed.

"Oh, without a doubt. Even during my moons when I'm not potioned up, my… well, the other me would probably still give that cat a wide berth." Lavender chuckled in reply.

"So, umm, what's it like?" Hermione asked. "Being a- a werewolf."

"Most the time, no different. On the full moons when I have the potion, honestly, kind of a rush. I feel so… so powerful, you know. I turn into a literal hulking powerhouse of muscle, and tooth, and claw. It's… it's incredible. On the full moons when I don't have any potion? Well, it's horrible. It hurts, so much, and then I spend the night rattling around in a cage because I dare not let myself out through fear of hurting someone. Then I come to, covered in bruises and scars -- from the bars." She explained, her hand going up to subconsciously tease the scars along her throat. "But, still, then Pansy helps with my bruises and, invariably, one thing leads to another and…" she began, Hermione laughing and her joining in, not finishing her statement, and not needing to. "But um, honestly, it's come in handy a few times. Especially when I'm potioned up to my eyeballs. Managed to sow a fair amount of discontent between the Werewolves and the new regime by just making a mess while under the full moon. We go out as a party, Pansy, Wood, and Hooch keeping an eye, making sure I don't get in too deep, while I make a mess. I'm always careful though, I never turn anyone."

"So you've- you've killed a few people then?" Hermione asked, instantly regretting it. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked that. Obviously you have, we all have, we're at war."

"No, I know what you mean. Yes, yes I have, and yes it is different. It's more… intimate, killing someone with tooth and claw, but, at the same time… it strangely doesn't haunt me. I feared it would, after the first time, I was terrified that I'd be tormented by the things I'd done, but I'm not. Erica describes it as a form of disassociation that comes with the transformation, even under the Wolfsbane Potion. A handy little buffer that the mind puts up between itself and the actions you take while transformed. Makes sense given the fact that when I transform without it, I'm a completely different person, for lack of a better phrase, so. But it stops me- it- it's like all memories while I'm under the potion and transformed are like me watching the events unfold, but not actually doing them. I decide what I do, and I'm in control, but… It's kind of like experiencing everything in second person, maybe. I- I can't describe it."

She went to reply, but stopped when Draco appeared, cresting over the top of Lavender, his approach having been obscured up until that point.

"Draco." She smiled, Lavender turning to see him as well.

"Hey you three." He replied, hunkering down. "Talking about anything good?" He asked, holding out his hand in greeting as Delphini smiled at him.

"Oh, nothing much. Wands and werewolves." Lavender replied.

"Wands and werewolves?" He quizzed.

"Yeah, Hermione had some questions about me being a werewolf, and I noticed that she had a new wand and wanted to ask about it." Lavender began, Hermione looking pointedly at her. The double entendre of wand being lost on Draco, but not on her.

"Oh, yeah. It only felt right to give her one." He replied, his comment perfectly honest and completely innocent on his part, only gaining new meaning when combined with what she and Lavender had actually been discussing.

"Did it?" Lavender asked, her eyes immediately brightening as she struggled to suppress a smile. "Well it seems like a good fit for her."

"Oh, well, it's actually slightly too big, but that's on me though." Draco explained, still innocently referring to the wand he had acquired for her, Hermione seeing a smile tug at Lavender's lips before she fought it down.

"Oh, well, that's hardly your fault. Besides, she didn't mention struggling with it."

"Okay. Well," Hermione interjected, partially to stop Draco, but mostly because she worried Lavender might actually explode. "we have a tent to set up, don't we?"

"Yes, we do. Uh, where would be a good place for that?" Draco replied, shifting his glance over to Lavender. 

"Oh, umm…" she tutted briefly, getting up and scanning the camp ground. "Just over here." She pointed out, toward the end of the crescent, on the right as she looked toward the camp. "I'll help you guys pitch it, they can be a bit of a bugger to put up."

Draco turned to look at her, "Do you want to take the tent, or Delphi?"

"I'll take little-un. You grab the tent." She replied, turning to look at the little girl. "Come on Delphini, let's go see our new home, yeah?" She smiled, holding her hands out, Delphini waddling over and giving her a hug, which turned into a lift as Hermione stood up, outstretching her hand to call the rotating golden orb into her palm, the enchantment ceasing as she did.

It didn't take long for them to have the tent situated, the three of them standing equidistant around it and raising it in time with each other, their wands gradually lifting and deploying the tent, the guy lines floating out and spearing themselves into the ground before snapping taut. 

"There we go. Oh, I brought some extra stuff for you guys -- whoever wants or needs them. I've got a couch, nice one, a coffee table, and a brand new king mattress. Call me pampered, but there was no way I was leaving my mattress back at the manor. So, those are up for grabs if anyone wants them." Draco said, moving around from behind the tent.

"Oh brilliant. Those kinds of things are always appreciated. Kind of tricky getting stuff out here." Lavender smiled. ''Anyway, I assume you guys want to get unpacked and settled in, so I'll leave you be. Still, it's great having you guys here, really."

"Thanks for taking us in. I mean, well, Hermione was always going to be but, I know it's a risk, you guys letting me in, and you have no obligation to Delphini, so-" Draco began, only to be shushed.

"Nonsense. You earned it, and if we won't put our necks out for children, then what good are we? You are, all of you, most welcome here." She smiled, raising a hand to dismiss Draco's comments. "Anyway. I'm going to leave now, or I'll be here all day." She chuckled, turning and stepping away.

They spent the next few minutes, after Draco floated the couch, coffee table, and unwanted mattress outside, to be taken by whoever wanted them, unloading their possessions into the tent, Hermione seeing the interior for the first time as she stepped in. It was sizeable, a good deal larger than Draco's room, which was nice. Walking in it opened up into a comfortably spacious lounge, a small black iron wood burner sitting in the center, flanked on either side, slightly back, by two two-seater couches, and with a comfortable looking chair sitting directly in her path, facing the wood burner. All the seating was, naturally, angled inward so that those sitting on it could enjoy the fire and conversation. The couches and chair were, she noticed, not seemingly from the same suite.

The floor was lined with several different rugs, each a different colour and pattern, though all compatible and complementary with each other. Light was provided by several bulbs that were strung up at what first seemed to be haphazard intervals, but the longer she looked she noticed that they were intentionally placed to provide the best light, while keeping the rustic atmosphere. 

Behind the lounge was a well appointed kitchen. Many of the cabinets being different colours and patterns and textures, but again, all deliberately and meticulously picked to be complimentary. There was a large stove along the far wall, with a black iron extractor hood , the chimney of which bent and bowed and twisted along the ceiling to marry up with the equally warped chimney from the wood burner. Several pots and pans, all beautiful copper, hung from hooks of varying lengths above the central island of the kitchen, which also played host to a large, deep, rectangular, white ceramic sink and draining board.

To the right of the central lounge, as she walked in, there was the bathroom, complete with bath and shower and toilet, the required water evidently being enchanted to appear on demand, and the wastewater, she assumed, being simply destroyed.

The left led to the two bedrooms. She headed for the master one, meaning to help Draco sort through the clothes, and found it to be smaller than his room had been at the Manor, but with ample storage space, and a bed frame that Draco had already placed his mattress on. The other room was smaller, though still spacious, and contained a double bed, that would be the domain of Delphini when she slept. Both the rooms continued with the deliberate, rustic, haphazard decorative theme, and the entire place reminded her strongly of the Weasley family home.

"Everything okay?" Draco asked, looking across at her. "I tried to get something a bit more warm and homely, as opposed to the aesthetic from the manor."

"It's perfect." She smiled, looking back at him as Delphini tottered around the tent, exploring the entire place.

He smiled in response, her following him as he headed back to the lounge to draw another age line around the wood burner. She watched as, when he finished, his eyes caught the wood encased pendulum clock that hung from the right hand wall.

"I- I suppose my parents would have returned by now and- and seen my note… and what I've done." He muttered, her seeing the beginnings of his potentially spiralling descent.

"Hey." She said, his attention turning to her. "No. You don't let that bring you shame, don't you dare." She began, sweeping over to take both his hands in hers. "You did what you had to do, what their actions forced your hand into doing. You shouldn't harbour any guilt from that. I mean, look around," she continued, casting her gaze around the cosy home they had pitched here, Delphini playfully pressing her hands on the barrier produced by the age line, fascinated at how a thin trail of vapour was holding her back like stone. "You did this. You made this home, this… this family. That is nothing to be guilty about, Draco." She looked back into his eyes. "Now, it's been long enough… kiss me already."


	15. Chapter 15

[[[ Ugh. Sorry for the ludicrous delay folks. My life has been hectic and unkind of late, I just didn't get any time to sit and write, something that irked me even more as writing this is one of my favourite things to do.

I can't promise that more chapters will come soon, as I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow, or two days from now -- but what I can say is that new chapters will come.

I have so much stuff planned for this story that isn't even close to happening yet, and I'll be damned if I don't tell it.

This story isn't dead.

Anyway, here we go. Hope you enjoy. ]]]

**__________**

** Part Fifteen. **

It wasn't long until what belongings they'd brought with them were sorted and stowed, the WitchBane being secreted away at the topmost of Draco's wardrobe.

She had sent Draco outside earlier to offer her apologies, as Delphini had climbed onto her for a hug and ended up falling asleep, making it impossible for her to go out to mingle any more, despite wishing to. Before sending him, she had had the presence of mind to request a book, a specific book, and was now leafing through the pages of Dark Sorcerers and Sorceresses of Eastern Europe and Eurasia, specifically looking for information about Artur Sokolov.

Despite the contents of the book being fascinating, and of a topic of which she was unfamiliar, she found herself distracted by the sleeping form laying up her chest, her head nestled between her chest and shoulder. 

She allowed the book to close partially, held open by only her thumb, as she looked down at the sleeping Riddle. Was she Delphini Riddle?

She shook her head. No.

She stopped being any relation to either of those two, the moment they had taken her. Blood be damned. 

So what?

Was she Delphini Malfoy now? She'd need to talk to Draco.

As if summoned by her thoughts alone, the entrance to the tent parted, her casting her eyes right, as Draco stepped in. He wasn't alone, she noticed. Stepping in behind him was Erica Rowe, though she only recognised her thanks to what Draco and Poppy had said earlier, were it not for that, she would be a figure she recognised, but could not name. Now, however, she remembered her fully. She'd changed a bit since their times at Hogwarts, though they shared very few of those times, Hermione usually making her best efforts to avoid Slytherins in those days. 

She was a handful of inches shorter than Hermione, probably no greater than 5ft, if she had to guess. She carried more weight on her frame than Hermione did, granting her a figure that many would be envious of. Her jawline, windswept, purple hair that crowned her head made it easy to focus on her, and focus on her she did, smiling at her, despite her arrival being unexpected.

"Erica?" She asked, though already knowing it was her.

"Hey." She replied, careful to keep her voice down, Draco undoubtedly warning her ahead of time that Delphini was asleep. "Granger… Hermione?" 

"Hermione is fine." She smiled, gesturing between the chair and couch, offering a place to sit. "I'd get up, but…" she chuckled, Erica sniggering as she sat down on the chair.

"I, uh," she began, looking between the two of them as Draco sat on the couch opposite. "Well, Poppy mentioned you'd been having nightmares and that, unlike most, they seem to be causing, or have the potential to cause, some rather nasty happenings if left unchecked." Hermione went to reply, but didn't when Erica raised a hand. "I'm not here to talk about that just now, instead, I brought you this," she continued, withdrawing a flask from the hoodie she was wearing, and gently placing it on the couch, sitting back after doing so. "Dreamless Sleep Potion. A temporary solution, at best, as I'm sure Poppy said, but it'll help for a bit at least."

"Thank you." She replied.

"That's quite alright. No, I came here because I thought you might like to talk to me or, or ask me some questions. You see, to get to the bottom of these nightmares you'll need to be open and honest with me, and that can seem a bit invasive, some of the questions I mean, so… Well, as turnabout is fair play, I'm happy to answer any questions you may have. I figured I'd come visit you now so that, when we talk properly, you'll be at least familiar with me, if not entirely comfortable."

"You didn't need to do that, I'd have told you about them for the asking. Poppy trusts you, that's good enough for me."

"Still, often a position of equality, a- a level playing field, can help. So, I'm happy to answer any questions." Erica smiled, "Even if it is just to introduce ourselves and that."

"Oh, well, okay. Fair enough." Hermione began, looking somewhat awkwardly over at Draco. "Poppy said that you had an affinity, or interest, with mental disorders. What, what brought that on?"

"Oh, um, having one." Erica replied, shifting, her honesty taking Hermione by surprise, and clearly not something she was overly comfortable talking about, but making an effort. "I struggled a lot, during the early years at Hogwarts, I poured over every book in the library and found nothing. I finally went to Poppy and she directed me toward Muggle research, of all places. I had little regard for Muggles, despite having Muggle heredity myself, a few generations back, but when I looked into it, I found it. Had to find it myself, I couldn't go to a Muggle doctor, but, eventually, found it. Muggles call it Bipolar Disorder, Wizards and Witches don't call it anything."

"What do you mean? About the magical community not calling it anything." Hermione asked, familiar with Bipolar, at least the broad strokes, but not understanding her comment about the lack of magical definition.

"How many times have you heard about mental illnesses in the wizarding community?" She asked rhetorically. "Mental illnesses, or maladies of the mind, though that title is, in and of itself, inaccurate, are all but unheard of, or conveniently ignored by the magical world. Any witch or wizard who struggles or suffers is usually left to figure it out on their own, and many succumb before they can. The lucky ones struggle for the rest of their lives, the unlucky get their wands broken, or imprisoned when they slip too far, and those who suffer more than the rest often end their own lives. There is little to no research put into it. We- we've become so focused on magic you see. We can cure genetic diseases, cancers, plagues, anything mundane with the wave of wand so long as it's physical. Everyone focuses solely on the pursuit of the magical, focusing on furthering their understanding of magic, or curing magical conditions, nobody thinks about how magic can be used to fix the cruelest issues people face… their inner demons… when their own mind turns on them. Muggles, for all their faults, which don't outweigh our own I've come to see, have a greater understanding of the universe, of the body, of the mind, than the magical community could possibly fathom. Do they use that knowledge for good? Often, no. They destroy their world and wage pointless wars, but there are those among them that dedicate their lives, without the distraction of magic, to figuring out why people are the way they are, and to find ways to help them. In many ways, they're ahead of us. I want to play catch-up. I want to make it so that other people, who are in my position, can get the help they need… maybe even have their issues corrected with the wave of a wand. So the witch with schizophrenia doesn't lash out and get imprisoned, or the wizard with depression doesn't wake up one day and end his life-" Hermione's eyes flicked over to Draco before she consciously dragged them back. "I want to shine a light on something that was always there, but nobody talked about. Yes, my motivation started as a selfish one, and maybe it still is… but I feel I can help a lot of people with this." She finished, seemingly only then becoming aware how much she had just ranted, her expression shifting to one of unease as her hands knotted in her lap.

"That sounds incredible." Hermione smiled, noting the discomfort in Erica.

"Well, it's, uh, it's the pipedream, anyway."

"Well, I hope that, by helping me, you gain some insight that might be useful… even if it is just nightmares." 

"Just nightmares… Nightmares are often overlooked by people, but they can be debilitating. And what's more, they can be warnings… symptoms. You mind crying out for help. If left too long, nightmares, or the causes of them, can develop into something far more serious. So I'm happy to help."

"That sounds like it comes from experience…" Draco interjected, lounging on the sofa. Hermione looked over him, her eyes tracing over him as he sat, partially reclined on the couch.

"It is. I had nightmares, recurring nightmares, aplenty back at Hogwarts. Social anxiety… like weaponised shyness, it plagued me then, and plagues me now. But… I have methods to cope with it, but I used to have nightmares of being expected to perform in front of the class or, you know, that sort of thing. I'm just a walking disaster." She laughed, apparently humour being one of the coping mechanisms she referred to. "It took me like… half an hour, ish, to actually come and find you. I only spoke to you earlier because Pansy called me over -- I couldn't exactly just walk away after being invited."

"Oh, well, we appreciate it. I mean, especially me. I'd rather not risk being sent hurtling across the room every time I wake Hermione up." He replied, injecting a sense of joviality himself, and Hermione knowing that that wasn't a veiled jab at her.

"Well, that's of only minor import to me. I just want to sleep happily." She replied, smirking at Draco and chuckling lightly.

"Well, with any luck, I should be able to help with both of those."

"Moving, uh, moving away from all that… how have you been since the- well the battle?" Hermione asked, shifting slightly. Draco looked over at her, grabbed the cushion from beside him and walked over. Erica quirked a tiny smile in his direction, though he was oblivious to it as he slipped the pillow down behind her, it immediately supporting her back and allowing her to relax more easily under Delphini's still sleeping form.

"Better?" He asked, her smiling and nodding at him as he returned to his seat before she looked back at Erica.

"Not too bad." She began. "First we ran, like immediately after, as many of us as were still able. Too many were caught, but those of us who got away we split into groups, to make it harder to find us all. We settled here, had to set up the camp. Stealing what supplies we could. The most gifted among us set up the enchantments, while the best duellists went to get tents, food, medical supplies, that sort of thing. I stayed with Poppy… I'm not that great at protective enchantments, and my duelling is… well, subpar, but healing? I can heal."

"What about you personally? I didn't really know you at school, I never really socialized with any Slytherins-"

"Yeah, that's on me." Draco admitted, his admission being entirely accurate. Her experiences with him during her school years had coloured her perceptions of all Slytherins, regardless of how unfair that was.

"Any partner or family kicking about?" She concluded, smiling over at Draco before facing her.

"Big family but, um, I told them to disown me… to… condemn my actions. You know? Keep them safe." She began, a sad look befalling her. "Uh, as for partners um," she shook her head, "no. Not, uh, no."

"Oh…" Hermione began. "Because, just not open to it, or?"

"It's complicated."

"I get complicated." She chuckled, glancing over to Draco.

"I don't think he knows I exist and, frankly, life's complicated enough right now. I don't really need a relationship making things more complicated."

"I get that. Well, you know, it never hurts to make him aware that you exist. Time can slip away." Hermione said softly, as Delphini began to stir. "Oh, I think she might be waking up. Hello sweetheart." She smiled as Delphine's eyes flickered open, the little girl snuggling in briefly before attempting to sit up, painfully pressing down on Hermione as she did.

Draco didn't move immediately, instead looking over at her, asking with just his eyes if she wanted him to take her. She smiled and nodded, him getting up and moving over.

"Oh, let's get you up. Feel a bit better after a nap?" He asked, holding his hands out, but not picking her up until she reached out for him, which she did.

She groaned in relief as Delphini's weight vanished from off her, and she could sit up properly, bowing her back the wrong way and delighting in the stretch.

"Well, um," Erica began, Hermione turning to see her looking back from the clock. "That's fortuitous. Dinner is usually done about now-ish."

"Oh, so it's group meals here?" She asked.

"We try to, yeah. Try to keep people's spirits up, and you know, make the group closer."

"That sounds good." Draco replied, getting back up after bending down to put Delphini on her feet.

"You shouldn't need coats, the central fire and the enchantment tend to keep it nice and warm, though it can't heat inside of the tents too well -- so you might need that when you settle down for the evening." She said, pointing to the wood burner as she headed for the door.

Hermione got up, pulled her boots back on, and followed her, bringing up the rear behind Draco and Delphini.

Stepping out, she could see tables being floated into position, and plates being loaded up with what looked like slices and chunks of meat, a hog roast if she had to wager, along with jacket potatoes and salads. She bypassed Draco, as he helped Delphini up the table and sat beside her to help her balance, and made for what she assumed to be the serving area. After offering to help, an offer that was turned down, she was given two full plates and another one with a Delphini sized portion.

Thanking them, especially Whittle, she returned to the table and sat down on the other side of Delphini, passing the plates out.

She demolished the food quickly, surprised at how hungry she was, and then set about helping Delphini. It wasn't long until everyone was finished, and the dishes were whisked away to be cleaned and stored.

"Hermione, Draco!" She heard Lavender call out, turning to see her walk over.

"Lav?"

"Hey. Well, normally, people would kind of scatter now and do whatever they want for the night, but given the arrival of you three, we're having a sort of impromptu party. Not much, just a mingle and a few drinks. It'll be all back to business tomorrow, but just for tonight…" She smiled, gesturing back to Oliver and Rolanda bringing out a healthy variety of drinks. She hadn't even noticed they'd got back.

"When did they get back?" Hermione asked, Oliver catching her looking over and waving.

"Oh, about an hour ago, ish. Will, will you guys join us?"

"Definitely." She replied. "Well, until this one gets tired." She added, smiling down to Delphini.

"Of course." Lavender smiled. "Handy, too. Oliver has been curious to get to know you a bit more." She added, nodding toward Draco.

"Me?" 

"Yeah. Guess he never really knew much about you back then, except well… well, you've changed a fair bit, and a lot of people here are curious to get to know you."

"Oh, well. Okay." He smiled awkwardly.

"Go on. Go have a few drinks, I'll watch Delphini." Hermione said, smiling at him, wanting the others to see in him what she now did.

"That's hardly fair. You've got more friends here than me, you should be the one to let your hair down."

"And I'll have plenty of time to do so. For tonight though, go let people see who you are -- instead of who they remember." She saw him shift nervously at the concept, knowing that he was uncomfortable with their current company -- solely because of his past, but she also knew that that was something he would need to get passed, and the sooner that happened, the better.

"Fair enough." He replied, putting on a smile and walking toward Oliver who was in the process of playing barkeep.

"He's so unsure of himself." Lavender remarked, Hermione turning to look back at her after fishing out a collection of Delphine's toys from the satchel she'd hastily thrown together.

"He always was, in truth." She explained.

"Really?"

"Yeah. The bravado, the insults, the arrogance… it was all like armour. Layers and layers of it, of his father, of his mother, of their expectations of him… all burying the person he actually was." She began. "Always unsure that he could be himself. Now though, now he is himself, he hates himself for what he did. He's absolutely married to the notion that he has to spend the rest of his life making up for the things he's done. The arrogance? That's gone from being a defence mechanism to… I don't know, comic relief, I guess. He's self-loathing, no matter what the facts of the matter are."

"Did he really do that much, I mean, in the grand scheme of things?" Lavender asked, Pansy appearing next to her and sitting down.

"What's this?"

"Draco. His… his self-loathing. He hates himself for what he did, he believes he has to spend the rest of his life making up for it… but, did he really do that much?" Lavender replied.

"He," Hermione paused, looking over the crowd toward Draco who was talking to Oliver, and helping run the bar before looking back. "He let the Death Eaters in… the ones that killed Dumbledore." She finally continued, her voice low. 

"Oh." They both said, recoiling slightly, looks of seriousness befalling them.

"Yeah, but thinking about it. He did so on orders from Vo- from the Dark Lord himself. If he'd refused, or failed-" She began.

"He would have just found another way." Pansy interjected.

"And likely killed him in response to his failure and/or defiance." Hermione added. "Had he defied it would have… it would have constituted a delay at best, and likely only a minor one at that." She looked across at them, them nodding in agreement. "Anyway, let's talk about something different. You mentioned that Pavarti and Padma are in another group, do you have much communication with the others, are there many more groups?" She asked, the look on Pansy's face instantly making her realize she had made a mistake.

"Jus- Just Padma, I'm afraid." Lavender replied, a pang of sadness in her eye. 

"Shit. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, you weren't to know. They- they decided that killing one twin would… would keep the other in line." She explained. A smile, a sad but proud one, pulling at her mouth as she continued. "They were very wrong. Padma is, from what I've heard, becoming quite the duellist. Plenty of the other side are regretting that she was allowed to live."

"She was always skilled… I bet she's a terror now she's angry." Hermione said, recalling Padma and how talented she had been at school.

"From what we've heard, she is. But yes, to answer your question, we have limited communication with the other cells. We try to keep it as minor as possible -- like, I don't know where they're based, or their full numbers, but we do communicate. We figured compartmentalization was best, in case one group is compromised." 

The next hour or two were spent listening, talking, and laughing with Lavender, Pansy, and Hannah who eventually made her way over. Plenty of time was also put into playing with Delphini, and when Ernest, who had spent a sizable amount of time talking with Draco, as she had noted, came over, he made a point of playing with Delphini. It wasn't long however until the little girl started growing clingy and tired.

She didn't know if she'd be able to get her to sleep properly, especially given that Delphini had, she assumed, spent most nights with her mother, but she was committed to trying.

"She's getting tired by the looks of it. She's had a full day. I should probably get her to bed." She said, Lavender, who was currently holding her, passing her over. 

"Do you want me to fetch Draco?" Ernie asked, gesturing over his shoulder toward the bar where Draco still was, seemingly talking to Oliver and Michael Corner.

"No, no. I'm sure he'll find his way back when he realizes we're gone." She smiled. "Uh, this meeting thing tomorrow?"

"About 9ish." Lavender replied, assuming the nature of her question correctly.

"Great. I'll see you all there. Good night." She smiled warmly, as she turned and headed toward their tent.

"Shall we get ready for bed?" She asked Delphini as they stepped in. She didn't expect a response, but got one in the form of a yawn as she thrust her wand toward the wood burner, three high pitched bolts of fire leaping into the heart of it, catching immediately. "Thought so. Bath first, just a quick one?" She thought, "No. We'll do that in the morning." She smiled seeing the little girl already flagging on her shoulder.

Turning right regardless, she made for the bathroom and got her cleaned and sorted before heading for the room they had set aside for her. Once in there she took her current clothes off, and pulled on one of the sets of pajamas that she and Draco had purchased for her.

Placing her on the bed, she watched as the little girl seemed to close her eyes and fall asleep instantly. Gingerly, fearing she would wake her, Hermione drew an age line around her, giving her enough room to shift and fidget, but making sure she was safely on the bed at all times.

She couldn't help, despite knowing it was foolish, thinking that parenting didn't seem that hard. Then, upon turning to leave and hearing the complaint spill from Delphini who had gone from seemingly unconscious to wide awake in less than a second, made her realize that tonight was going to be anything but easy.

She read, she sang, she talked, she hummed, she even tried offering her food and drink, but it wasn't until she woke up, she assumed a few hours later, laying beside her, with Delphine's head resting on her arm, that she figured out that it was simply company the little girl needed. 

It took her a few moments to notice why she had woken up. Someone was watching her. She could feel it. Slowly she shifted her weight, terrified of waking Delphini up, until she managed to look far enough back to see Draco, framed by light from the living area spilling into the hall, standing there, leaning on the frame of the entryway, smiling at her.

"I wasn't asleep." She whispered, feeling inexplicably embarrassed.

"Liar." He replied, smiling even more strongly as she extricated herself from the bed.

"Fine. But I wasn't asleep for long." She laughed quietly, moving over and, without even thinking, running a hand up his chest as she leaned in to kiss his cheek, suddenly struck by how swiftly the tiny, almost meaningless, displays of affection had bloomed into her behaviours.

"Why didn't you come get me, I could have helped?" He asked, taking her hand and squeezing it gently, smiling warmly before letting go leading her back into the living area.

"No need. You seemed like you were having a good time and, out of the two of us, Delphini knows me the least. She already seems to love you, so I figured getting her used to me would be a good idea." She replied, noting that he didn't smell of alcohol, not even remotely. "Didn't you drink?"

"What? No. Well, I had one. I wasn't planning on it, but Argus brought over a very old bottle of brandy that, and get this, he'd stolen from the headmasters office before they left. After Filch broke a rule, it seemed rude not to drink it." He chuckled. "Other than that, no. Got a little one to look after."

"You could have had a couple, if you wanted." She smiled, sitting down on the couch, the warmth of the fire seemingly reaching every corner of the tent simultaneously. 

"I know. Just didn't fancy it." He replied.

He moved to drop down beside her but hesitated. 

"Do you want a drink or anything?" He asked, gesturing toward the kitchen.

"Just some water, if you don't mind."

She sat for a moment, thinking, until a cool glass of water was presented to her and Draco sat down beside her.

"Bit different now, huh?" She mused, taking a large gulp of the water. "Being here, surrounded by friends, rather than, well, in my case, enemies."

"Definitely. We can… you know, talk, normally without it being suspicious. You can actually display emotion aside from hollow happiness… you can be you. It's brilliant." He replied before taking a large gulp of his own water. "A lot has changed."

She smiled, twisting and putting the glass down on the floor beside the couch before turning back to face him and simply looking at him until he looked up from the book he had just started reading.

"What?"

"Not everything has changed." She said, the gradually building electrical charge she had felt since waking up, sparking to her fingers and her lips as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Pulling her knees up onto the couch, she leaned toward him more, supporting herself with her left hand that also pressed down onto the soft cushions below, her right on his cheek. 

The kiss lasted for a blissfully long time until she finally broke it, rocking back slightly so her eyes could focus on his without her vision being blurred.

"Unless," she began, "you feel differently now."

She expected him to kiss her back, or to let out some faux-cruel joke. In fact, a tiny part of her was even braced for the possibility his feelings may have changed. What she didn't expect was for him to drop his book, get up while simultaneously grabbing her hand off the couch, and pull her toward their bedroom.

"I take it you haven't then." She chuckled as he dragged her into the room, span her round and grabbed her by the waist, facing her.

"Stupid isn't a good colour on you." He leaned forward pressing his lips to hers and pushing her back toward the bed, an action she completely allowed.

The moment her legs hit the edge of the bed however, she twisted and stepped forward, switching places with him and sending him pitching backwards onto the mattress he had taken special care to bring with them.

Reaching down, she grabbed the bottom of her top and pulled it off, throwing it to the ground beside her as he shifted further onto the bed, light sparking into his eyes.

Placing her knees onto the mattress, she pushed herself forward, straddling his legs, then his pelvis, before leaning forward, flicking her hair to make it fall aside, and kissing him again. 

As her tongue pressed passed his parted lips, he gently ran his fingers up her side, then down her back, tiny sparks coursing through her in response to his touch.

Their lips pulled apart, and she took the bottom of his jumper and gently pulled it up. He adjusted his weight and position as she did, allowing it to, somewhat awkwardly, peel free and off of his now bare torso. As he settled back, undoubtedly expecting her to continue kissing him, she did no such thing. Instead she sat back, feeling his rapidly growing excitement through his jeans, and began slowly tracing her fingers along the collection of scars that covered his chest.

"What are you doing?" He asked, impatience evident in his voice, though not overtly so -- and it was an impatience she fully understood, and even shared.

"Taking my time." She replied, allowing her eyes to meet his for a moment before returning to the task at hand, picking another scar to trace.

As she slowly pulled her thumb along one that sliced across the left hand side of his waist, she smiled as his skin tightened and his face twisted.

"That tickles." 

"Wow. Draco Malfoy… is ticklish." She smirked, though did not continue, instead moving her hands to different scars.

Her eyes caught on the now exposed Dark Mark on his left forearm, and had to suppress a wince at the look of it. Large, so dark it seemed to absorb light, and lazily coiling.

His arm shifted, twisted, angling the mark down toward the mattress, and she snatched her eyes away and instead looked at his.

"Don't." She said softly, apologetically, as if noticing it was her fault. 

"I hate it though." He began, only to wince slightly as she gently took his wrist and returned it to where it was.

"They marked me too." She continued, her eyes flicking to her own forearm, the word mudblood cruelly carved into the flesh there. "I'll never be rid of that, and though I'm not sure exactly how these work, I doubt you will either. It's a part of you," she slowly pulled her thumb down it, stroking not it, but him. "So, I'm not going to ignore it… rather enjoy you, to spite it." 

She laced the fingers of her right hand with his left, and her left with his right -- her left hand moving from his chest as she did, and pushed his arms up the bed as she leaned forward again and kissed him.

She could feel him, through his trousers. Growing, hardening, filling with excitement and need. She was having an all too similar reaction herself. She could feel the warmth and wetness between her legs grow stronger, as her own heartbeat began to echo in her ears.

"Take these off." She said, her breath coming heavily as she parted their long kiss and climbed off of him, gesturing at his jeans, her fingers already unfastening her own.

The moment the metal button of her jeans slid free, the grip of the waistband loosening instantly, Draco was on her. His hands grabbed her waist and threw her to the bed, an embarrassing and excitable squeal leaving her throat as he did. 

He had barely done as she had said. His jeans hung open, but he'd evidently not put much effort into shedding his own attire, more waiting for her to shed hers. 

As her back hit the mattress, he slid off of it, kneeling beside the bed.

"Draco, no, n-" her words caught as she felt his breath on the bare skin just above the waistband of her underwear.

She felt her jeans be pulled down further, Draco's mouth moving down as they did, his breath soon caressing her inner thigh, her excitement obviously being visible through her underwear.

"No?" He asked.

"Sh-shut up, and-" Her words failed again as she felt his lips press to her, separated only by the thin fabric.

Her hands flashed to his hair, moving entirely of their own volition. The last time he'd done this, it had been incredible, despite how awkward and embarrassed it made her feel. And now, as she felt him tease her underwear down, his breath on her now, the self-sabotaging desire to close her legs was almost overpowering -- that was until it was burned from her entirely the moment this tongue pressed to her.

She tried to look at him, to let him see how his every motion -- even flick or lap of his tongue, brought her indescribable joy, but she couldn't. She held his gaze for a minute as his tongue would tease her, toy with her, and occasionally, deliciously, drive into her, but the foolish embarrassment she felt dragged her eyes away, casting them upward to the fabric ceiling of the tent. 

She had no clue, none at all, how soundproof the tent was, if at all, but the noises he was pulling from her made her pray it was. 

She could feel her mind teetering on the edge, about to be plunged into perfumed depths, and as his tongue dragged across her once more, her hands shot to the mattress beside her as she fell. Her fingers gripped the fabric sheets as her back arched and she bit her bottom lip, her mind being drowned in lightning and water, fighting to keep herself quiet -- not only for her own modesty, but also through fear of waking up the toddler next door.

Despite her being able to focus on nothing but the pleasure wracking her brain and body, she could feel, almost as a passenger in her own body, Draco continuing to work her. Hungrily lapping at her, pushing her deeper into the orgasm that had claimed her. His ministrations seemed to prolong the sensation, to drag it out, but as it ended, and the perfumed water receded from her consciousness, she took a breath. The air, delicious and cool.

He hadn't stopped, but she needed him to.

"Draco, Draco stop. Stop." She mewled, panting, trying to recover.

He did so, looking up at her, his lips and chin glistening in the low light.

"Get- get on the bed." She said, her body recovering, her mind spinning up as the last of her orgasm slipped away, leaving only the gnawing desire for another. "Get on the bed." She said again, more firmly, rolling aside, noticing only then that, during his actions, he had managed to completely remove her jeans and underwear, seemingly without noticing.

Rising to his feet in a single fluid motion, he seemed to roll and flex his slim waist in such a manner that the jeans, that were still hanging loosely from him, fell free entirely, leaving him completely naked with the exception of his underwear -- something she would remedy soon enough.

The mattress shifted beneath her, adjusting to his weight as he climbed on. The moment he was even remotely stable, she threw herself at him.

Flinging her arms around his neck, she pressed her lips to his, tasting not only him, but herself -- the intoxicating mix stoking the now exigent lust she felt.

Keeping her right arm around his neck, holding his lips to hers as they fought to get better purchase on the other, their tongues duelling, she slid her left arm down and pulled his cock free. The sensation of it, the softness of the skin coating something so intimidatingly rigid, made her heart skip.

She broke the kiss, her arm sliding from behind his neck to push on his shoulder, pitching him back until he fell, his head landing on the pillow. Smiling at him, her expression, she knew, being one of such lust and mischief that it would be impossible to replicate out of this situation, she slid down the bed, her right hand sliding down his chest and stomach to take hold of him as she waited. 

His eyes were looking at her, but not into her own. They danced and twitched, seemingly trying to see everything, every single element of this moment, and commit it to memory -- but the moment, the very second his eyes locked with hers, she extended her tongue and licked the very tip of him.

His hips twitched, him consciously preventing himself from thrusting himself up -- and in response, she removed the necessity. 

Lowering her head, keeping her tongue pressed to him, she enveloped the head of his circumcised cock with her lips.

She wasn't good at this, she knew that. She couldn't take him as deep as she wanted, or as deep as he would likely desire, but she also knew such limits could be overcome with diligent practice -- and she was nothing if not diligent.

She positioned her left hand on his hip, while her right wrapped around the base of him, the smooth hairless skin there only now making her realize that he must actively keep it that way. Then, as she focused, she pressed her head down while simultaneously bringing her hand up to meet her lips. 

With each downward shift, she would push him deeper into her mouth, running her tongue over as much of him as possible -- a task not made any simpler given how nearly completely he filled her mouth. 

Further and further she took him, each downward shift followed by gradually lengthening upward one. She felt an almost ludicrous sense of pride in herself that she had yet to struggle, only for it to be cruelly snatched away as she almost gagged.

Not wanting to test fortune too much, she didn't push herself further, instead setting into a steady rhythm. As her lips came down, her tongue working him inside her mouth, her hand would come up, a motion she knew all too well could not be misconstrued as anything but milking -- eagerly and hungrily trying to pull his cum out of him. It was ridiculous, hilarious, and yet was all she wanted to do right now. It seemed to be the most important thing to her, the lust that clouded her mind making everything else fall away, and placing this moment above everything else in the world.

She felt his hand on her head, her eyes shifting instantly up to his closed ones. His hand wasn't pushing her, nor was it pulling her off, seemingly just resting on her, his fingers coiling through her hair. 

She hummed, the sensation of his grip exciting her. Her hum was one he noticed, his eyes opening to look down at her, hunger burning in them. As he looked, she slipped her hand from his cock, bringing up to take his hand that held her head. As she did, she gripped, causing his grip on her hair to tighten. She pressed his hand down, her head going with it, and then let go, quickly placing her hand back where it was, on his cock, so as to prevent him, in his over excitement, from pushing himself too far down her throat.

She had expected him to do so, to control her, to take her hair and shove her down onto him -- she wanted it. What happened however was not that.

Instead, his grip tightened further, discomfort flaring through her, though instantly mixing with the lust and being converted into excitement. His other hand, that had been gripping the bed linen, moved to the other side of her head and did the same -- but instead of moving her head, he anchored it still, before his hips began firing, rolling, driving himself up into her lips… fucking her mouth.

It didn't take her long to appreciate her subconscious forethought in placing her hand back, as Draco evidently lacked restraint when things got going -- something the bruises on her waist already attested to, and something that, if she was honest, excited her. 

The sound and the feeling of him roughly driving himself as far into her throat as she allowed, as well the mess and wetness that was forming around her lips and chin would have been painfully shameful and embarrassing had she not been in the state of mind that she was -- instead, however, it made her feel powerful, despite her deliberately putting herself into a position of submission and subservience. The effect she had on him, the fact he was desperate, so desperate, for her that his affection for her was overridden at these moments with lust and need, made her feel strong -- in control. She had a power over him, and it made her feel good about herself.

The continuous, relentless, and not-gentle hammering of his cock into her mouth was, despite its brilliance, beginning to take its toll. Her throat was beginning to complain more and more, her jaw was starting to ache, and her lungs were beginning to make their need for a proper breath well known.

She gently pulled back, wondering how he would react, only for him to immediately release her hair, allowing her to shift back at her leisure. She had had no fear that he would continue, if she didn't want it… that concept hadn't even crossed her mind. She had, however, wondered if such a simple motion would be able to cut through the haze that had taken hold of him.

She panted for a moment, allowing her lungs to fully cycle and oxygenate her again before wiping her chin, and smiling at him, the need between her legs now being too much to ignore.

"You can finish that another time." She began as she saw concern flash into his eyes, undoubtedly worried that he may have gone too far. "For now…" she continued, her having no inclination to finish the statement with words, she instead moved up the bed, placing one leg either side of Draco, straddling his waist, and pressing the smooth head of his cock to her, teasing her open fractionally.

Every time they'd had sex so far, he'd been the one to take the initiative, to have her beneath him, and though she loved it, she wanted him to know, beyond a doubt, that she wanted this -- wanted him. 

"Hermione, I-" he began, her not allowing him to finish, instead relaxing her legs and rock backward, driving him entirely within her.

Her breath hitched, before slipping from her in a gasp.

She could feel him, not only stretching her open to accommodate him, but she could feel him at her depths.

She rolled her hips forward and back, her clit rhythmically rubbing against the smooth skin below her. His hands moved up, and grabbed her hips, and though his grip was firm, he made no move to alter her pace or motion. 

His eyes closed as he focused briefly on only the physical sensations that she was bringing him, but as soon as they opened again, his breaths coming in gasps to match her own, she leaned back. Maintaining the rhythmic rolling of her hips, feeling his cock stirring her so deliciously, she removed her hands from his chest, and reached around behind herself and unhooked her bra, throwing it from the bed before grabbing his hands and pulling them up to grab her breasts.

Feeling his palms and fingers knead into her, she leaned back, placing her hands behind her and steadying herself on his legs before lifting herself up, the delicious, slick friction of his cock sliding partially out of her compelling her to drive herself back down again -- a compulsion she followed.

Then followed again, and again, until she set a surprisingly rapid pace. Lifting herself up before allowing herself to fall again, her skin clapping to his as she rode him.

"Fuck." She moaned out, louder than she meant, but no longer caring any more.

As if emboldened, or triggered by it, Draco tore his right hand free from her breast, leaving his left rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and instead placed it lower. She felt his fingers rest on her stomach, and felt his thumb press firmly into her clit.

Her eyes sprang open and she looked down at his, seeing the delightfully familiar, and excitingly intimidate hunger inside his eyes.

His thumb shifted, applying more pressure at the height of rhythm and less when she was pressed down onto him, causing a relentless stream of pleasure to course through her.

"Draco. Draco." She stammered, feeling another orgasm about to overtake her, her legs burning. "Take me."

She didn't consider herself unfit. Quite the opposite. The time she'd spent hunting the Horcruxes had done wonders for her strength and stamina, and the time at the camp had been hard, but this was a repeated motion that called on muscles she had evidently neglected. So the moment Draco surged upwards, throwing his arm around her, before spinning and pinning her to the mattress, their positions now reversed, the relief that washed through her from her aching legs only heightened her pleasure further.

He had managed to perform the entire motion without slipping free of her, and as he pulled himself back she braced herself for the far more savage thrust she was about to receive.

He didn't disappoint.

Driving himself forward, she cried out again, swiftly moving her arm up and biting her forearm to keep herself quiet. That didn't last however, she couldn't keep her hands off of him, and within seconds, his thrusts now coming with alarming, almost frightening speed and force, she'd started pawing at him, clawing at him, at his arms, his hands painfully gripping her waist again, trying to get him to lean forward, to cover her completely and allow her to embrace him when he made her- 

Her mind went blank, vibrant pink taking everything as her back arched and he hands gripped the bed sheets either side of her.

She cried out his name… at least she thought she did. She couldn't be sure.

Bolts of lightning sparked through the pink with each new hammering thrust he subjected her to.

She opened her eyes, the pink vanishing, and tears fell free from them, rolling down the sides of her face to soak into her hair. She felt him waver, his previous pace snagging slightly, causing her to shake her head frantically.

"No. Don't stop, don't stop." She begged, her breathing breaking her words as she pawed at him again, this time him leaning forward, allowing her arms to envelope him. "Please don't stop." She whispered into his ear, only for her to throw her head back in another moan as he drove himself into her harder than before, her fingers bending, her cut nails once again digging into the skin there.

She lost track of time, only feeling him. Feeling his heartbeat shake through him, feeling his sweat slick skin pressed to hers, feeling his heavy breathing on her neck and shoulder, and feeling his cock slam into her over and over again. 

It would hurt tomorrow, she knew. Ache like all hell. In fact, it probably hurt now, but her body wasn't wired to feel it that way at present. She felt indescribably happy. Simultaneously drowning and floating on an ocean of pure bliss. 

An impact brought her back to the moment. His fist had hit the bed beside her. 

She looked at him, seeing a look in his eyes that both thrilled and terrified her, and in response his hand shifted to her head, his fingers weaving through her hair and gripping tightly enough to hurt. He didn't yank her hair though, no, he did the opposite. He held her firmly, even pushing her onto his thrusts, as if he was trying to push himself as deep into her as possible. 

He was close. Seconds away. Less.

Her mind flashed, recoiling back to a dream she had of him back before this began, back when her feelings for him were just starting. The dream she'd had had been wonderful, but it hadn't done it justice -- not at all.

With his vice-like grip on her hair, and the force of his thrusts, she lost herself to another orgasm just as she felt a familiar liquid heat be loosed inside her. He grunted as his grip tightened still, his own orgasm making him press himself as deeply into her as he could.

He held her there, her joy running its course as he sporadically thrust forward again, despite never having pulled out, not even an inch, until finally his arms gave out.

He tried to roll free, so as to not land on her when he fell, but she didn't allow it, using what strength she had left to hold him there until he collapsed onto her, his head falling between her neck and shoulder.

For about twenty seconds they both laid still, on or under the other, breathing heavily, before Draco began to speak.

"S- sorry if I hur-"

"If you apologize to me," she panted, "about any of that, I'm going to jinx your mouth shut." She interrupted, laughing lightly as she stroked down his spine.

"Well, risking permanent or semi-permanent bodily modification, you let me know if I ever-" 

"I will. Okay." She turned her head and kissed his forehead. "But, in the meantime, we both need sleep."

The pair shifted, both protesting as Draco climbing off of her, neither of them wanting him to.

She stood up before immediately sitting back down, her legs refusing to hold her weight.

"Help me up, will you?" She asked, receiving a confused glance from Draco. "Look, my legs aren't exactly working right now-" she paused seeing his expression shift. "Wipe that look of pride from your face Draco Malfoy, and help me up." She laughed.

Taking his hand, she pulled herself up, and after a few seconds her legs begrudgingly took her weight.

Moving back through, she finished the drink he had gotten her earlier, her mouth suddenly dry after all the exertion, and then downed the potion Erica had brought her. Then, after applying the contraceptive charm, cleaned her teeth and got herself ready for bed.

Back in the bedroom, she grabbed a nightshirt, pulled it on, and dropped on to the bed, Draco following soon after, extinguishing the fire in the lounge prior to joining her.

She rolled over toward him, placing her right hand on his chest and snuggling up closer. 

"I love you." She whispered, closing her eyes and breathing in his scent.

"I love you too." He replied, only for a sound that both of them had expected, and neither of them had hoped to hear to come spilling from the other room -- Delphini, complaining. "I'll go see her."

"Just bring her through." She replied, rolling over to follow him as he walked around the bed.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Will help her get used to me, and more chance we'll actually get enough sleep." She confirmed.

It wasn't long until Draco was placing Delphini on the mattress and laying down beside her, the toddler snuggling into her position between them, her eyes closing again. Hermione looked down at her, before looking back across to see Draco doing the same.

She smiled. Things had changed, but others definitely hadn't.


	16. Chapter 16

[[[ It seems the alterations to my schedule are not going anywhere. So all I can do is offer my apologies for the delays. 

I will no longer attempt comments like "Next part will be up soon" or the like, as I am no longer in the position to be able to ensure that -- all I can promise is that updates will be coming. This story has a ways yet to go, and I have plans, I just can't guarantee speedy updates. I hope you understand.

More parts will come, they just won't be to any set schedule.

I try to proofread, but mistakes happen.

Hope you enjoy x ]]]

**_____**

**Part Sixteen.**

Waking up, the fabric ceiling above, he looked across to see that over the course of the night he had been shunted to the very edge of the bed, as had Hermione, while Delphini had turned 90° and had taken up as much of the bed as humanly possible for a child her size.

A smile tugged at his lips as he slipped his legs out from beneath the duvet and stood. A brief notion flashed through his mind to take Hermione's wand, but the recollection that she had imbibed a potion stayed his hand. His actions had disturbed Delphini however, and she began fidgeting, causing him to lean over and gently scoop her up.

Moving swiftly and quietly out of the bedroom, Delphini gradually rousing to full consciousness as he did, he made for the kitchen, planting a soft peck on her cheek as full awareness finally swam into her eyes.

"Good morning, sweetheart." He said softly, surprised by the inexplicable level of joy he felt as she smiled back at him. "Shall we make breakfast for Mummy? You can watch as I prepare an example of food," he chuckled, "I should probably see if Whittle can spare some time to teach me to cook a bit better." He continued popping her down on the floor as they reached the kitchen. "I can cook, mind. You know, to an okay level, but still…" He looked down at her, her looking back at him, smiling, but not understanding a word he was saying. "Let's see what we've got to work with." 

He rummaged through the kitchen, pulling the fridge open, a wonderful piece of Muggle technology that the magical community had recreated with a simple enchantment on a cupboard, and seeing a few bits of bacon. Combined with the other ingredients he'd managed to find, he settled on something.

"Eggy bread, bacon, some fruit juice, and I'll get some tea made too. You... you can help me with the eggs." 

After a few minutes he hunkered down with a bowl containing two eggs, and after offering Delphini a fork, he helped her whisk the eggs, gently mixing them up.

"Perfect." 

Placing the bowl on the side, he retrieved one of her toys from the lounge and offered it to her before placing the kettle to boil, putting the bacon under the grill, and setting to dipping bread in the egg mix before frying it -- redipping the bread repeatedly until the last dregs of egg were instead poured over the bread. 

Lifting the bread out with a fish slice, he placed a slice on each plate, along with two slices of bacon each. Beside each plate, he placed a glass of orange juice and an empty cup, the tea instead being brewed in a pot between them. 

Placing a third, smaller, plate between them, he cut a chunk of his bread off and halved a piece of bacon before transferring them to Delphini's plate, along with an apple that he cut into crescents, and a small cup of fresh juice for her.

Evidently summoned by either sound or the smell, he turned to see Hermione padding out from the bedroom. She hadn't gotten dressed, neither had he, so both were still wearing the ensembles they had slept in. Her hair was completely untamed and seemed to occupy a far greater amount of space around her head than ought to be possible.

She looked beautiful.

"Morning gorgeous." He smiled.

"That smells incredible." She replied, smiling as she moved over and sat at the small kitchen island. "Your dad trying to show me up? Making breakfast while I snore my head off." She asked Delphini as he lowered her into the highchair he had placed by the island.

"Not at all… and you don't snore." He replied, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead before dropping into his own chair and moving to pour the tea.

He knew that the concept of him referring to Hermione as Delphini's mum, and her him as her dad, was the best choice for getting Delphini accustomed to this new family, but being called dad was still awkward to him. He liked it, it made him feel like he could really make a difference, and do some good, but simultaneously it was an enormous title, and one he feared he wouldn't live up to. It did occur to him, as he finished pouring and replaced the pot, looking up to see Hermione looking at him with a look of affection in her eyes that he couldn't believe he had managed to earn from her, that she probably felt the same way about being called Delphini's mum, though he couldn't think of anyone that would make a better parent. 

Eating breakfast, both of them casting occasional glances at Delphini as she ate about as much food as she threw, they chatted aimlessly for a few minutes before Hermione glanced across at the clock.

"The meeting is at nine. We should probably get a move on." 

He glanced across and noted the time, 7:45. "Yeah. You're probably right. How about this, you get Delphini sorted and dressed while I do the dishes. Then I'll get you undressed, and then we might be a bit late for the meeting?"

She chuckled into her cup, her laugh being one he would never tire of hearing.

"How about everything you said, except I'll get me undressed and redressed while you do the same, and we'll do the latter part of your plan later on?" She countered.

"That a promise?" He asked amusedly, grabbing her plate and stacking it atop his, followed by Delphini's.

"Well, I guess that depends on your behaviour, doesn't it?" She smiled back, winking. "Come on sweetheart, let's get you all set." She segued, lifting Delphini up, retrieving an errant scrap of bacon from her lap and offering it to her as she did.

Watching them leave in the direction of the bathroom, he found himself amused by the fact he couldn't stop himself smiling. Ferrying the dishes over to the sink in as few trips as possible, he filled the sink and began washing them clean. He had moved onto drying them by the time Hermione and Delphini reappeared, sweeping swiftly through toward the bedrooms. 

It didn't take him too long to finish, and as he moved through toward the bedrooms himself he sidestepped to allow Delphini to half walk, half crawl her back through, before stepping in to see Hermione pulling through her wardrobe, wearing only her underwear.

He walked over, her seeing him and rolling her eyes at his expression as he did so, before kissing her on the neck as he walked passed, toward his own wardrobe.

"Thank you." He said softly, reaching in and snagging a hastily assembled outfit.

"What for?" She replied, looking across, pausing.

"For this," he began, gesturing widely. "For giving me a chance, for- for getting me to give me a chance… and for, well, for giving this- giving us a chance." He explained, smiling softly at her as she turned to face him, her head cocked slightly to the left, an amused smile on her face.

"I don't know why you're thanking me… I wouldn't have done so if you hadn't convinced me that it was worth the risk." She said, her words soft and sincere.

"That's as may be but, still, thanks. I- everything would have been much different for me without you."

"Stop being so mushy, come on we'll be late." She smiled, beaming at him, a sight that made him feel nonsensically happy.

They arrived outside the main tent with just a few minutes to spare, being collared en route by Filch and Pince who offered to watch Delphini, and offer Draco accepted despite a certain level of unease from Hermione being evident to him.

As Hermione reached for the tent flap, he grabbed her arm. "Hey. About Filch. He's a changed man-"

"I know. Lavender told me. It just.. it just struck me as a bit odd. Took me off guard. I'm not worried, if that's what you're worried about. I trust Filch. I mean he fought at Hogwarts despite having no magic whatsoever." She replied.

"Okay, good. Just making sure you're not worried or anything." He explained, seeing the sincerity in her eyes as she smiled in response before opening the tent and stepping in.

"I hope we're not late." He heard her say as he followed her in, the assembled members of the Remnant looking across at them.

"No, not at all." Madam Hooch replied, gesturing to two chairs that slid backwards on their own. A simple piece of wandless magic, but one that never got old as far as Draco was concerned. "No Delphini?"

"Oh no. Argus and Irma offered to watch her." Hermione explained, sitting down, him doing the same in the chair beside her.

"Well, that was awfully selfish of them. They know that little one is the talk of the camp." Rolanda chuckled before continuing. "No, that was kind of them, just don't let her be a stranger, you hear? It's nice to have a little one about and, well."

"Well Hermione has an appointment with Miss Rowe later today, I'll be rather lost for something to do. I could bring her round to visit, if you'd like?" Draco interjected, not entirely sure if his inclusion was solicited, but trying to be open nonetheless.

"Oh, only if you're not busy." Rolanda replied, smiling at him, her piercing yellow eyes cutting into his, but him finding no hostility in them.

"No, not at all. Maybe you could take her up for a fly? Inside the dome mind. Be nice for her experience flying without being pelted by rain and freezing cold wind."

"Would be my pleasure. Now, we should probably get to business." She agreed before shifting the subject, him nodding along and noting Hermione smiling across at him.

"So, we have a few raids planned this week," Pansy began, leaning forward, "mainly supply gathering. Poppy, we haven't forgotten about the state of your and Ernie's potion supplies, and those are items of urgency. As for greater goals? Now that we have Hermione safe and sound, Draco on our side, and Bellatrix out of the picture, I imagine the Dark Lord is feeling threatened -- that's both good and bad news for us. The W.I. will be on high alert, specifically looking for my ass no doubt, but whatever we decide to do this week, and for the future, we should keep in mind that he won't forgive or forget the loss of Bellatrix, or Draco's betrayal, and especially not Hermione here -- someone with a greater understanding of his Horcruxes -- being out in the wild again. So, everyone, be careful. No unnecessary risks."

Draco tentatively raised his hand.

"Oh, no need for that. If you have something to say, just say it." Lavender smiled, beckoning him to speak.

"Well, when Hermione was… was 'given' to me, he, and my aunt, both said that she was simply the first of many muggle-borns that would be 'gifted' to pure families. Apparently it being their scheme, Unbridge's scheme actually, to solve the inherent unsustainability of the wizarding population. They realized that removing and barring muggle-borns would result in the ultimate collapse of the magical community so… they intend to use them as, and I don't mean to sound crude but, breeding stock." He began, looking sideways at Hermione briefly before back to the table. "That can't be allowed to happen. I'm not sure when the first 'roll out' is scheduled for, or if recent events have delayed it at all, but we need to find out and we need to stop it."

"I can't agree with this more." Hermione began. "I got incredibly lucky that I was placed with Draco and that he had become who is his, instead of who he was forced to be. Others will not be that lucky. The memories of what we do under the Imperius Curse are ours, and they remain after the curse is lifted. We need to get them out before they end up playing host to memories that will destroy them…" she paused, looking down at the table and clenching her hands, "Like Ginny."

"You will not find an argument here, or anywhere in this camp, the MRCs have been targets for us since the moment we formed, but the reality is we can't do it. We don't know enough about their layout, their defenses, or anything. An attack would be impossible… or would have been impossible, I should say, until now." Pansy spoke again, looking firstly at him, then fixing Hermione's gaze. "How much do you remember about the MRC in Wales?"

"Well… what do you know already?" 

Pansy paused, looking across at Lavender who looked at Oliver. Oliver nodded, got up, and disappeared into a side room before returning with a large sheet of parchment and spreading it open on the table.

"Not too much, I'm afraid." Lavender began. "What we know is the result of a few scouting missions, and what little information that Pansy could learn from the Ministry without attracting attention." She began gesturing to the structures in a specific order, and started explaining what they knew of each, Draco having no insight as to their accuracy. "This was listed as the Witches and Wizards wards respectively, us assuming from that point on that the entire facility was segregated by sex. These blocks, here and here, we assumed were residential -- cells, bunkrooms, that sort of thing. This one, due to the traffic we witnessed on our few excursions, we believe was some sort of bathhouse, mass showers, something like that. Obviously, this is a large central courtyard. Here we believe is the barracks, and administration area. We have no insight into the internal layout of these buildings however. Over here... this was listed simply as 'Station', and our reconnaissance shows it to be exactly that, a train station, these bastards obviously finding it easier to ferry people here by train, rather than anything else. The place is overseen by Antonin Dolohov, though apparently Umbridge often visits and supersedes him as she runs the entire Muggle-Born Registration Commission." She stood back up, glancing at the map for a few seconds longer before meeting Hermione's eye again. "That's the extent of what we've got, with the exception that we know the place is defended by numerous guards… not Inquisitors or anything, but still, we can only assume they're somewhat competent. That and common sense dictates that the place is shielded from Apparition, and we can only assume that it has, at least one, secure access to the Floo Network -- meaning that whatever we do will need to be done quickly, as the longer we are there, the greater the chances of us getting overrun by reinforcements."

He glanced across at her, seeing her follow Lavender's explanation and nod along with what she said. As Lavender finished, Hermione leaned over and gestured toward the map.

"That all tracks. As for internal layout," she began, pointing toward the Witches Ward and the attached residential area, "It's split into two wings, and I can only assume the Wizards Ward is as well. One is for the likes of me -- those who fought, who have had some form of formal education, the ones they need to 're-educate'. The other wing seems to be for those that have just been discovered, the eleven year olds that should be attending Hogwarts. Instead, they… well, I don't know, but the kids that go in don't join the general population, and are seemingly sent home again… so, I assume they tell them some nonsense about them being infected by magic or something, and then teaching them how to suppress it without becoming dangerous -- that's only an assumption, mind. They couldn't very well lock them all up, or exterminate them, that would raise some awkward questions with the Muggle government. The residential blocks attached, if you can call them that, are just a series of mass bunk rooms. I've only been in the one, the one I was in, but they get about a dozen or so people per room. The bathhouse, as you called it," she continued, playing her finger over there, "is exactly that. It's a large communal shower block. All the women shower, then all the men. As you surmised the place is segregated by sex, and we had no interaction with the Wizards Ward, at all." She leaned back, sitting comfortably in the chair. "The guards? I can't comment on their competence as I never saw them have to do anything other than a few displays of basic force, though Gregory Goyle works there, so take from that what you want." This took Draco aback, as she hadn't mentioned that before which he assumed she would have. "As for the barracks and administration sections… I never went there. Dolohov did the rounds a couple of times, but never much liked to mingle with the 'filth', and not being permitted to torture us, I guess he couldn't think of much to do. They're trying to re-educate us, you see. Indoctrinate us into believing that we 'stole' our magic… be it deliberately or not. Someone at the Ministry must have realized that torture would set that scheme back, not push it forward. We're only punished if we step out of line. I- I don't know what the punishment is, but I'd assume the Cruciatus curse… I kept my head down, had them to believe I was broken and had no fight in me -- seemed the best way."

"Bastards… as if they believe that would work-" Oliver began, only for Hermione to interrupt him.

"It does work… it, it was working, on some more than others… bu- but even on me. It, it works. The dehumanising, the vilifying, the enforced distance between us and anything magical… all that combined with the promise of freedom, the promise of 'better' once we- once we accept their reality. It's tempting. You- you start to… to think that maybe they're right. Maybe you got magic by accident, maybe you weren't meant to have it, maybe your life would be better if you just swore off of it, relinquished your magic and-" she stopped the moment he rested his hand on hers, her looking across at him, the darkness behind her eyes fading before she turned back and cleared her throat, "All I'm saying is, were I there much longer I- I don't know how much longer I would have lasted."

"Is that still what's happening there? I mean, what with Umbridge's new initiative-" Lavender spoke up, stopping when Hermione looked at her and began to speak.

"Yes, I'd wager. From what we understand, this initiative isn't for everyone as it were. It's only for the 'best' families. There are too many muggle-borns for all of them to be shipped off and raped, so I imagine they'll have to continue the re-education for those not selected."

"Do we know what the criteria is for 'selection'?" Poppy asked, looking entirely disgusted by the concept.

"No. It could be like a messed up rehoming center, where they bring in the 'worthy pure-bloods' and let them take their pick, or it could be a lottery… you get what you're given. From what the Dark Lord and Bellatrix said, the primary factors are magical ability, if it's known at the time -- like it is with the current inhabitants, then there's um… well, fertility. I imagine looks would feature if the families do get to pick their own, but that wasn't the case with me -- I was sent to Draco because Bellatrix remembered how much animosity we used to harbour for each other and wrongly assumed Draco would relish the opportunity to- well."

"What about the Floo Network? What would be your guess as to where any connection might be, if there's one at all?" Oliver asked.

"I've drawn the same assumptions that I believe you would have. The only logical place would be in, or perhaps under, the barracks and administration block… But seeing as I've never been in there, I can't promise anything. Our best bet, for any semblance of time there, would be to raze that block as quickly and as entirely as possible at the very beginning of our attack. That would at least, I hope, slow them down. My main concern is that, even if we get the prisoners out, they're still in the middle of the Welsh Highlands, under an anti-apparition spell of an unknown scale, with no wands or even the ability to apparate if they weren't. How are we to get them away?" She replied, her question silencing the entire room as they all turned to face Oliver.

"A portkey." He smiled.

"Really?" Draco replied, looking across at him, fairly confident Hermione's reaction would have been the same.

"Yep. Not easy to make, or quick, especially given that none of us here are particularly, err, versed in the charm used to produce them. But we've been working on one for a few weeks, and I'm fairly confident I've got it just about nailed. Obviously I'll give it a test run before expecting them to use it. I can probably have it done by this time next week… a might sooner if either of you have experience with the spell and can lend a hand." He confirmed, Draco shaking his head and hearing Hermione voice her equal unfamiliarity with Portkey creation.

"Okay. This is good. How about we convene on this in a few days? Give Oliver some more time to work on his Portkey, and give everyone some time to wrack their brains for anything helpful. Plans, notions, ideas, anything that might give us an edge in razing that place." Pansy spoke up, looking over at Hermione. "We can't know what you went through there, even if you explained it we'd never fully grasp it I feel… but we'll see the place burned. I promise."

"I'm in. There are people there, friends, and I want to help get them out. That, and if anyone's going to burn that place to the ground it's going to be me." She replied, looking down at the map again, a dark anger growing behind her eyes.

The meeting continued for about another hour before it came to an end and he stepped back out, Hermione behind him talking absently with Oliver. Turning back, her saw her throw her arms around him, this being the first proper time they'd spoken since their arrival, before releasing him and looking across at the tent they'd left Delphini in.

"Shall we go see what she's up to?" She asked, the darkness that had grown in her eyes now replaced by a hopeful glow.

"Absolutely." He smiled back, gesturing toward the tent for her to lead on.

Crossing the distance, calling ahead, and then pulling the tent open, he saw as she froze before immediately laughing and moving in. "Are you kidding me?"

He ducked slightly and followed her in to see what had surprised her, only to find Delphini sitting on the floor, playing with Mrs Norris who was laying on her back, feet in the air, like a playful kitten.

"You can't be serious?" He smiled, echoing Hermione's sentiment as he noted her moving toward Filch, who sat in an armchair looking across at them.

"Mr Filch-" She began, "I don't think I've ever seen Mrs Norris play with anyone but you before." 

"She's a good lady. People just don't give her much of a chance… but, that was probably my own fault." He replied. "I'm sorry I haven't spoken to you since you got here, I- I didn't really know what to say." 

"The same can be said for me." Madam Pince added, moving through from their kitchenette with a small cup of water for Delphini. "Also, Irma, Argus, please. Our dynamic from Hogwarts is long gone. Would you like a drink?"

"I'll make it." Draco offered, stepping forward. "The least I can do after you watched her for us."

"It was our pleasure." Argus replied, genuine sincerity in his eyes.

"I- I would like to apologize," Hermione said, looking across from Delphini to the two of them, "for anything I did at Hogwarts that was… disrespectful-" she stopped as Argus raised his hand.

"That's not needed, Miss Granger-" he began, only for Hermione to insist he used her first name. "Hermione. I- looking back, I was on the wrong side of a lot of our interactions back then. I just… I lived for that place, and the rules meant a lot to me… that's no excuse mind. If anyone here should apologize, it's me, and I do."

"From what I've heard, you've more than made up for anything in your past, Argus Filch. You saved Lavender. You fought Death Eaters with crossbows, and rocks, and you saved people. You are more than redeemed. Were it not for you, our chances of stopping the Dark Lord would look considerably darker." She smiled, reaching across and taking his hand as Delphini pottered over and grabbed at him, an action he smiled at and hoisted her up to his knee.

Draco was watching, from his place by the stove, the teas now brewing, and for the first time saw what Argus Filch might have looked like as a Grandfather. He smiled to himself. It seemed like Delphini would indeed have a large family here with the Remnant.

It wasn't until he delivered the tea to them that Hermione realized the time. So as to not be rude, they both finished their tea, but then had to bundle Delphini up and leave relatively swiftly, as neither of them wished to delay her first appointment with Erica. Walking out, they both looked back toward Argus and Irma, standing in the entryway to their tent smiling, and waved back at them, promising to bring her round again soon.

Stepping up toward Erica's tent, they found her leaning on one of the wooden poles that held it aloft, looking across at the large central tent and the group of people now leaving it -- Lavender, Pansy, Oliver, Rolanda, and Poppy. She turned to look at them as they drew closer, smiling at them.

"There you are. How are you all?" She asked, standing up from her leaning position.

"All good, yeah. Yourself?" Hermione replied.

"Not too shabby. So, shall we get started? Draco, would you mind-"

"Making myself scarce?" He interrupted, anticipating her question. "Not at all. Come on sweetheart, let's leave mummy to chat with her friend." He smiled, taking Delphine's hand and leaning over to kiss Hermione. "We'll be with Madam Hoo- Rolanda, see you in a bit."

"Have fun." He heard her reply as he turned and led Delphini toward the tent he believed Madam Hooch called her home.

He wanted to be included in Hermione's sessions with Erica. He wanted to know everything that troubled her so that he could help, in any way that he could. Simultaneously though, he was well aware how disruptive his presence would be. Even if Hermione went into the meeting planning to be completely open and honest, his presence alone would likely cause her to subconsciously omit certain details, and there was no way of knowing how essential those details could be. So, despite his desperation to be there and support her, he knew that the best thing he could do would be to give Erica and her some space.

Over the hour or so that Hermione spent with Erica, Draco had witnessed as Madam Hooch had introduced herself to Delphini properly, before taking the little girl on a series of gentle laps around the camp on her Firebolt -- a Firebolt that she had apparently stolen early after the Remnant settled here. Touching down a couple of meters away, she smiled as she unfastened Delphini and gently placed her down before looking across at him.

"She didn't fuss at all. Seems to have been born with skylegs. Enjoyed every minute of it, babbling away and taking in the sights." She said, dismount her broom and holding it beside her. "It seems your unpleasant flight here hasn't put her off in the slightest."

"That's good to hear," he replied, hunkering down as Delphini tottered over, tripping on her own feet and falling into his arms. "Apparently she has a tendency to float in her sleep, so her being afraid of flying would be awkward," he turned to look at and address Delphini as he stood back up, "wouldn't it?" He leaned in and tapped his nose to hers, her giggling in response.

"Well, random displays of magic in children is pretty much universal for witches and wizards, but unaided flight? That's, well, I've never heard of anyone being able to do it without specific training. Seems we should expect exceptional things from this little one when she grows up." She mused, her piercing, hawk-like eyes looking Delphini over with fascination.

"Well, let's just make sure she has the best upbringing we can, so she's exceptional in a good way… unlike Him." Draco added.

"As long as you surround her with love and patience, I'm sure Miss Granger and yourself couldn't go far wrong." She spoke, her gaze going over his shoulder, causing him to turn and see Hermione approaching, Erica in step beside.

"Well," he added quickly, turning back to face Rolanda, "I just hope I don't fail to the same extent my father did." He then turned to see Hermione, now well within earshot. "Hey, everything okay?" 

"Uh, yeah. Got a bit, well… but, still, yeah. All good." Hermione replied, her eyes appearing somewhat reddened, albeit not newly so. Erica evidently doing her best to calm and cheer her up after asking her to recount what she knew of her ordeal, and what she could remember of her nightmares.

He cast his eyes down, noting the bottle she held in her hand, another potion.

"It may take some time," Erica began, him looking up at her, her evidently noticing him looking at the potion, "for us to see some change. One session was never going to do it. So I'll do what I can to provide potions to help with it -- but, unfortunately, that's the last of them. Ernie doesn't have the ingredients to make any more."

He nodded, understanding that therapy would take time, but the lack of potion ingredients was an issue he had heard about twice in one day. "Thank you."

"No, not at all. My pleasure." She replied as he moved closer to Hermione, offering her a cuddle with Delphini -- an offer she accepted, scooping the little girl from his arms.

"Did you have fun?" He heard her ask, her question directed toward Delphini.

As Rolanda stepped in to answer, he took the time to quickly interrupt. "I just need to talk to Wood, won't be long." 

Hermione smiled and nodded at him before bending down to put Delphini on her feet and hunker down beside her.

Striding across the camp to where he had last seen Oliver, he swiftly found him pulling a fresh dark grey jumper on, over a simple white tee.

"Draco. What's up?" He asked, somewhat surprised by his presence.

"You're going for the potion ingredients, yeah?" 

"Aye, yeah. Got a contact in Bristol. Don't exactly trust him, but our options are limited. Why, what do you need?"

"To go with you." He said matter of factly, his response making Oliver square up and tilt his head.

"No offense, Draco, and I don't want you to think this is a trust issue, as it isn't, you've more than convinced us… but you and Granger are going to be wanted persons one and two. Her for obvious reasons, and you because they think you've been kidnapped, as I understand it. Either of you two going out for a wander right now, probably isn't the wisest decision." 

"I get that, but I can dress down, and change my appearance a bit. I- I don't want to be a drain. You guys didn't have to take me in, not after everything I did, but you did. I want to pull my weight here, as much as Delphini allows." He explained.

"I get that. I do. But you aren't a drain, and we were happy to welcome you in. After everything you did for Granger, putting your neck out for her. There are no doubts or misgivings here, especially not from me. But you should probably let things calm down a bit before you g-"

"Hermione's going to need a nigh-constant supply of Dreamless Sleep Potion. A not simple potion to produce. I want to-"

"You want to make sure we get the right ingredients?" Oliver smiled.

"Yes, but also what I said earlier. This isn't purely a selfish request, I meant what I said. I didn't join a resistance against the Dark Lord to just sit on my hands."

He watched as Oliver mulled it over, leaning on the table behind him for a few moments.

"Okay. Usually I go alone, it's easier to get there and back unnoticed, but if you insist, you can tag along. I suggest changing your hair colour." He finally said, standing back upright.

"Thank you. I'll go get ready, come find me when you're ready."

Upon receiving a nod in response he turned and moved swiftly back toward Hermione, pulling her aside briefly.

"I'm going to Bristol with Oliver. We're grabbing some more potion ingredients. Shouldn't be too long."

"Draco, I really don't think that's wise. People are going to be looking for you, and this won't distract them… you don't look that different." She said, brushing the short beard that had appeared after not shaving it for the past few days.

He chuckled. "I know. I'm going to change my hair colour, and just try to disguise myself as best I can-"

"Draco, Oliver is perfectly capable of-"

"I'm not having you plagued by those nightmares again." He said firmly, taking her hand. "I'm going to make sure enough of the required ingredients for you are found… plus, with the two of us, it'll discourage their less than trustworthy source from doing anything untoward."

"You hope."

"I hope. Look, I- I also want to show these guys that I can be helpful. Okay. And you… I want to help you."

"Draco, you do help me but… Fine. If you want to do this, I won't stop you, but if you die, Draco Malfoy, I'll kill you." She smiled.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He kissed her quickly. "We won't be long. It's just a pickup."

"Better not be. I do want to spend some time together today." She called after him as he strode toward their tent.

After pulling on a large, black fur lined winter coat, and grabbing a grey ushanka, he paused and checked himself in the mirror. Drawing his wand he pointed it toward his hair.

"Crinus Muto."

He watched as his hair and stubble beard became streaked with shocks of black that gradually bled out to change every strand before he aimed his wand at the small unit next to the bathroom sink.

"Conjurus." He muttered, picturing the object he desired fully in his mind.

Black and grey smoke spilled from the tip of his wand before forming and solidifying into a pair of black, square framed glasses which he snatched up and put on. Looking back into the mirror he was confident he looked fair enough removed from his usual appearance to pass as somebody else, and when he stepped outside to see Hermione, who was just about to enter, react the way she did, he was even more confident.

"Wow, well. You certainly look different." She chuckled, Draco noting that Delphini was not with her, and was instead babbling away at Whittle in the distance, the small elf beaming from ear to ear.

"That's good," he began, his eyes catching on Oliver waving him over. "Well, I better get going. I won't be long."

"Hope so." She replied, grabbing his hand and pulling him in for a kiss. "Be safe."

He was stood in Bristol less than five minutes later, Oliver having placed his hand on his shoulder the moment he got to him, and apparated them both to a secluded section of a park, looking out at the Clifton suspension bridge. Pitching forward, supporting himself on his knees, he took a few deep breaths after having the air sucked out of him.

"Oop, sorry about that." Oliver grimaced, but he could see the amusement behind his eyes.

He finally stood back up, laughing slightly. "Right, so, where are we going?" 

"There." Wood replied, pointing directly toward the bridge.

"The span? Never been there." Draco replied. "Heard about it, but never needed to visit."

"Aye well, it may not be as big or as successful as Diagon Alley, but it has what we need, and it's smaller scale has proven to be very beneficial for us. Less authorities… less eyes. Come on. Sooner this is done, sooner you're back home with Granger and the little one." He said, tapping his arm and gesturing through the trees to what looked like a public footpath through the park.

They walked for about five or ten minutes before finally joining a road and heading toward the bridge. He followed Wood, the bridge having a fair few Muggles crossing it as well, either by foot or by car, but after a while he turned and simply stood in the center of a simple scored square on the otherwise featureless pathway.

"This the way in?" He asked, looking at him confusedly.

"Yep. Don't worry about the Muggles. They won't notice." He replied, before stamping one foot and instantly vanishing.

Draco recoiled for a moment before straightening up, taking the same position that Oliver had just occupied, and stamping his foot.

Quicker than he could process, and accompanied by a sensation of falling, his surroundings had changed. Instead of standing on the pedestrian walkway of the Clifton suspension bridge, he was in what appeared to be a tunnel, about half as wide as the bridge in total, and in front of him was a row of shops. Book shops, wand sellers, quidditch supplies, no big names like in Diagon Alley, but seemingly successful businesses regardless.

"Where are we, exactly? I've heard about The Span, but in name only." He asked, looking across the see Oliver waiting patiently for him.

"We're on the bridge, well under it actually. The Span is constructed directly underneath the bridge, physical attached to the underside of it. Muggles just can't see it." He replied, Draco turning to look out the large window behind him, the view of the Avon gorge beneath confirming what he had said.

Draco smiled. Even living around magic his entire life, it always found new ways to impress him.

"Come on, it's this way." Wood said, getting his attention again before turning and heading down the relatively busy, so cramped, thoroughfare.

"Wait up." Draco said, causing Wood to pause and turn back as he handed a handful of coins over to a street vendor and took a copy of the Daily Prophet from him. "Sorry." He added, looking back at Oliver as he tucked the paper into his inside pocket.

"Not a problem. It's this way." He continued, leading Draco passed a potion supply shop, before ducking down an alley two shops further up.

The alley was not, as Draco had first surmised, an Alley, but was in fact an accessway to a switchbacking flight of stairs that lead down. He followed Oliver down into another level. The pathway here was narrower still, and the buildings were less neatly organised. As opposed to the upper level, where every storefront occupied the same side, down here it appeared as though it had been originally constructed that way, bit extra structures had been added later, being squeezed in wherever there was room. As such the main path zigged and zagged around unusually shaped buildings. Some appeared to be simple homes, where others were small shops. 

He followed Oliver as he lead them toward the Leigh woods side of The Span before stopping.

"In here." He said, pushing the door open to a modest store called Treharne's Tinctures and Tonics.

Stepping into the small, cluttered, and eclectically decorated store, Draco was immediately assailed by the strong smells of varying herbs, potion ingredients, and potions. Light being cast from several wall mounted oil lamps, he cast his eyes across the interior until a shape that he had initially taken as a collection of bags, turned, and a pair of eyes peeked out from within.

"Ah, Mr Wood and… who are you?" The figure said, his voice low and slippery.

"He's a friend, Rhys. Do you have my order?" Oliver asked, stepping forward and placing his hands in the pockets of his coat -- one of which, Draco knew, contained his wand.

"Of course, of course I do. Let me fetch it." Rhys replied, pulling his gaze away from Draco, apparently disregarding him as unimportant.

"Wait. I'm after other supplies as well, and can pay handsomely if you have them on hand. As many of these as you have." Oliver said swiftly, interrupting Rhys's planned exit and handing over a folded piece of parchment. 

Rhys took it, his movements soft and serpentine, before opening and inspecting it.

"Oh, I see. Someone having bad dreams?" He replied, his eyes peeking up over the sheet to scan them both.

"What makes you say that?" Wood replied, his expression causing Draco to make a mental note to never play poker with him.

"Well these ingredients, they can… you know what? Never mind. Not my business." He smiled, folding the parchment and pocketing it. "I believe I have reasonable stores of these, and you are welcome to them all… provided you can pay of course."

"When have I ever not paid?" Wood replied, a friendly smile on his face, but the tension in his shoulders confirming that he didn't trust this man anymore than he did a bludger.

"This way then, gentlemen." 

He disappeared through a door along the back wall, Oliver following him but instructing Draco to wait in the door and keep an eye out, an instruction that Draco obeyed, leaning on the door frame, straddling the threshold between the store and the storeroom.

"Here we are, as ordered. A hefty haul I might add, anyone would think you were fighting a war." He heard Rhys say, Draco's grip on his wand tightening.

"Fortunately, we know better though." Wood replied, his words hard. "Would you mind packing for me? I'd hate to accidentally put something in there that I hadn't paid for."

Rhys hesitated for a second before smiling and setting to carefully place the ingredients in the bag Wood provided. "Not at all."

"Including as many of the aforementioned extras." Draco interjected.

"Of course." Rhys replied, drawing his wand and flicking it gently at some shelves opposite, causing the contents to slip from the shelves and fly swiftly into the bag.

Minutes passed, Draco keeping his eyes fixed to the windows that looked out into the street. A number of passers by flashed passed, but none had doubled back, and he hadn't seen anything else that concerned him. It wasn't until he heard the sound of a coin purse that he looked back.

"Pleasure doing business with you Rhys, as always." Oliver said, exchanging the heavy sack of coins.

"Indeed, always a pleasure Mr Wood."

Draco slipped back, allowing Oliver to pass in front of him, Oliver clapping his shoulder as he did.

"Come on, we should head back."

"Alright." Draco replied, falling in step behind him.

"I'll be in contact, if we need any more." Wood said, casting his eye back towards Rhys.

"Always welcome here." Rhys replied.

Stepping out onto the street Draco pulled the door closed behind him, hearing the lock engage less than a second after. By the time he had time to process that Rhys should have no need to lock his door in the middle of the day, it was already too late.

"Get down!" Oliver cried out, grabbing his shoulder and hauling him down as a flash of angry red cracked into the wooden frame of the door where his head had just been.

Snatching the ten inch Hawthorn from his coat pocket, he slashed it, point down, through the air. The film of blue light left in its wake by the shielding charm caused a spell, otherwise fated for Oliver, to vanish in a crack of sound and light.

"That son of a bitch! Come on." Oliver barked, sending paired blasts of magic back towards their attackers, Stunning spells by the look of the angry bolts of red that crossed the distance, only to spank harmlessly into stone.

Draco scrambled to his feet and ran after Wood, keeping his head down and ducking between and behind what cover he could as he went.

"Bombarda!" He shouted, whipping his wand in the direction of Treharne's Tinctures and Tonics, causing the storefront to explode, showering the street behind them in stone and wood, and leaving a thick mass of dust hanging in the air. "Where are we going?" He called after Wood, the both of them exploiting the brief reprieve in the attack, the dust fouling the air between them and preventing their attackers from seeing them -- though that would only last a second.

"No idea. Not many options… in here." He replied, kicking the door to what looked like a home open and ducking inside.

Following him in, Draco threw the door closed before applying the Sticking charm to it. It wouldn't hold them long, but any delay could be the difference between their escape and their capture. Turning back and following Wood through to the back of the house, they found themselves backed in with no way out, only a window overlooking the Avon gorge.

"How many were there?" Wood called back, over turning a table as he heard an ineffectual kick land on the front door, a blissful delay, but one that would be spent the very next second.

"I counted four, but who knows how many more there could be." He replied, taking position beside the door, hoping the wall would provide enough cover to keep him alive. 

When he'd heard Wood's warnings earlier that day, he hadn't expected to be faced with the realities of his situation quite so soon. He'd expected to get here, get Hermione what she needed, and get back… showing himself to have value to the Remnant, and finding a way to help her at the same time. He hadn't expected it to go this poorly this quickly.

He shook his head as the door exploded inwards and the sounds of voices filled the house. 

He refused to fall here.

"Confringo." He spat, leaning around and thrusting his wand at the first figure he saw.

Fire and dust filled the hallway as the spell created an, otherwise sourceless, explosion on the figure, encasing him in flame -- a mute point as the detonation had killed him instantly in a rather gruesome display of human fragility.

Their response was furious. A similar explosion struck the table that Oliver was ducking behind, sending him diving for cover and blasting half the table into shards and splinters, the other half skidding across the floor. Draco went tumbling to the ground as the wall he was covering behind was blown in, thankfully reducing the section that struck him into smaller pieces of rubble, plenty small enough for him to crawl out of with ease.

He could hear their hurried footfalls moving toward them, and knew that by the time he extricated himself from under the rubble they'd be over him.

Blinking the dust from his eyes he saw as Wood appeared at the still intact side of the door frame and slashed his wand laterally toward the shards and splinters that the table had become, sending them hurtling down the corridor, the pained screams that followed informing Draco that someone had been hit.

Clambering to his feet and joining Oliver in sending spell after spell down the corridor, trying desperately to keep them suppressed, he frantically cast his gaze around what had once been a kitchen diner, a desperate notion forming in his mind.

"You know the Disillusionment charm, yes?" He asked, loosing another Stunning spell down the corridor, it spanking off of, and completely destroying, a dark wood balustrade.

"Of course, but they already know where we are." Wood replied, looking across the room at the other half of the table, it still relatively intact, before he spelled it aloft and sent it clattering down the corridor, it getting half way before being reduced to ash by return fire.

"Not for them, for the Muggles. This way. Finestra." He stated, pointing his wand at the window, causing it to shatter, but with no real force so the shards simply fell downwards instead of being blown out.

"Oh fucking hell." Wood replied, spiralling his wand up himself as Draco did the same, both them immediately taking on similar colour and texture as whatever was behind them.

It wouldn't work particularly well at speed, but hopefully given the speed of their coming descent, and the distance they were from the banks of the river, hopefully it would provide just enough concealment to stop Muggles seeing two people materialise out of thin air and fall down into the gorge below.

"Let's go." Draco said, steadying himself before running for the now vacant window frame.

He barely saw, out of his periphery, Wood spell the door -- the door had been removed from the wall early on in the altercation -- upright to plug the door frame once again, blocking the views of the assailants just long enough for them to jump.

The air was cold, and the rate of his descent numbed his face as he struggled to keep himself flat and level, not wishing to tumble end over end.

As the Avon river below grew intimidatingly close he spoke the incantation that would save his life.

"Arresto Momentum." 

The magic washed over him, stopping him instantly while also preventing any damaging such sudden deceleration should naturally cause. Then the spell ended, and he fell the last few meters into the water below, Olivier splashing down beside him less than a second later.

"Come on," Oliver spluttered, gesturing to the nearest bank, "We need to move. Come on."

Draco didn't consider himself a strong swimmer, but given the circumstances he crossed the distance admirably swiftly, his now sodden coat weighing considerably more as he finally pulled his sore, aching body from the water and onto the slippery mud bank.

"Guess- guess they didn't follow." He panted, seeing no sign of pursuit.

"Not that way, but they probably saw which way we went, they'll be here soon." He heard Oliver reply, shifting his gaze across at him to see him checking the contents of his bag. Nodding, evidently pleased that nothing was broken, he held his hand out. "Get over here, come on."

"Accio hat." Draco panted, flicking his wand toward the river before catching the wringing wet ushanka that slapped into his palm. "I like this hat." He explained before holding his breath as he felt Wood clap his hand to his shoulder.

His vision twisted as his view of the Avon gorge collapsed in on itself to be replaced by a familiar featureless clearing in the forest of Dean, a clearing that rapidly parted as Ernest Macmillan and Hermione pushed through the enchantment and ran up to them.

"Draco! What happened?" She yelled, skidding to a halt and reaching out to touch the trickle of blood that was making its way down from a cut in his temple, before pulling back and drawing her wand. "Episkey."

A sharp stinging pain spiked through him and numerous small lacerations that marred his face and scalp all healed swiftly. "The contact was about as trustworthy as expected."

"Rhys sold you out?" Ernie asked administering the same spell to Oliver.

"Yeah, the moment we stepped outside we were set upon by four… well, I don't know who they were, but either way, they weren't friendly. They weren't MLEP, and thankfully they weren't W.I. or we would have been done for." Oliver replied. "We got away, mind. Thanks to this one," he continued, clapping Draco on his sodden shoulder, "and we got the stuff." He concluded, sliding the bag from his shoulder and passing it over.

"Merlin's beard, you two are soaked, you must be freezing. Come on, let's get you warmed up." Hermione spoke, taking Draco's hand and dragging him through the illusory veil that concealed the camp.

"Well, as tempting as that sounds," Wood began, a shit eating grin pulling at his lips, "However you plan on warming Draco up should likely be done without an audience, so I'll excuse myself." 

Draco couldn't help but laugh under his breath as Hermione's cheeks flushed red. She went to counter, but the good hearted humour on Wood's face caused her to instead shake her head and chuckle.

"Thank you, Oliver, for helping to keep him safe." She smiled.

"Hey, he did more than his share, but, you're welcome."

"Come on, let's get you into something warm." She smiled back at Draco, before he felt her begin to pull him toward their tent, him more than happily allowing her to do so.


	17. Chapter 17

__________

**Part Seventeen.**

Slowly opening her eyes, she rolled over and saw much the same as yesterday, an empty bed. Draco had evidently woken up a short while ago and taken Delphini with him, leaving her alone in the hope she would get extra sleep. A small smile pulled at her mouth as she rolled onto her back and gazed up at the fabric ceiling of her new home.

She quickly, subconsciously, dove into her memories of the day before to remind of her what she had planned for the day. She had another appointment with Erica after lunch, and as much as she knew Erica was trying to help, and understood the basis of the method, she wasn't looking forward to the required levels of openness and honesty. Yesterday she had gone into it willing to talk about anything, but the questions and discussion had proven to be painful, and though she would continue working with Erica, she wasn't looking forward to it. Still, the hope of the therapy actually working in the end was enough to keep her motivated.

Then of course there had been Draco and Oliver's less than entirely successful trip to Bristol. She didn't know exactly what had happened there, only that they'd been sold out, attacked, and managed to escape, but whatever had happened it had knocked Draco. He'd seemed worn when he got back -- not straight away, initially he'd been in relatively high spirits, but as time passed and, she assumed, the adrenaline wore off he seemed… she wasn't sure… thin, or raw. She'd asked him, but he'd simply shrugged it off and she'd chosen not to push it at that time, but she still planned on asking him about it today -- early. Whatever it was had some effect, it had knocked him enough that he hadn't even tried anything sexual that night, instead seemingly content to simply pretend to read while watching her read, then cuddle up in bed and sleep. She wasn't upset about it, as her talk with Erica had rather killed her libido that day as well, and though she had no doubt that had he sought something, and she declined which she likely wouldn't have, he would have taken it in his stride, but he hadn't sought anything, and she'd expected him to. Draco was hardly a loved-crazed madman, in fact his drives seemed to match her own, it just struck her as odd.

Before that, however, she had a meeting with the others. She assumed it was to go over the events of yesterday, and their new found necessity to source another supplier of potion ingredients. Still, she checked the time, she had woken up plenty early enough that she wasn't pressed for time.

A sound attracted her ear. Whistling, coming from the kitchen. Draco, obviously, and though he was making a valiant effort to whistle quietly, she could still make it out. It took her only a second to identify the tune, Jupiter, from Holst's The Planets. The bringer of jollity. She laughed slightly through her nose as she laid and listened, straining at times as he continued to monitor the volume, and succeeding -- had she not already been awake it wouldn't have woken her. 

Across from her, on a small unit by the, for all intents and purposes, door, sat the newspaper that Draco had purchased the day before. It had been thoroughly soaked and destroyed during their evident dive into the river Avon, but having had time to dry she snatched her wand from beneath her pillow and floated it over. Though the paper had dried, the ink was long since destroyed, and the paper illegible.

"Reparo." She muttered, watching with half-satisfaction as the words reappeared on the pages, though the images, or anything that had been enchanted to move, did not -- the content being lost at the same time as the enchantment.

'Bellatrix Lestrange injured during attack on Malfoy Manor. Malfoy heir kidnapped.' read the headline.

"Injured? Is that what they're calling it?" She hissed, discarding the evidently propaganda filled paper aside and swinging her legs out of bed. She made a mental note to read it later, but doubted it would contain anything of value… the headline being a lie in and of itself.

Moving through toward the living room and kitchen, the new set of light pink and white plaid pajamas consisting of a pair of slightly too long bottoms and a button up shirt, she stepped in and looked across at Draco who was still whistling while pouring two cups of tea from pot to cup, Delphini contentedly playing near the wood burner, the age-line still drifting lazily around it. She leaned on the wooden frame of the corridor, her right arm crossing her torso as she absentmindedly rubbed her upper left while simply watching him and smiling.

Just as he began to turn, she began whistling along with him, him snapping around to look at her, falling silent briefly before going to speak.

"Sorry if I woke you-" 

"You didn't." She interrupted, smiling and moving over to sit down as he placed a steaming cup in front of her.

He didn't sit straight away, instead pausing and simply looking at her as she took a first tentative sip of the entirely too hot drink. She looked back at him, noting the same expression in his eyes that she had seen every day for several days. A mixture of gentle wonder and deep affection.

She smiled up at him, the gesture seeming to snap him back to reality, as he sat down straight after.

"You know," she began, pausing to blow her tea, "you should let me get up first one day. Give yourself a lie in."

"Hmmm maybe." He replied, though she could see he had intention of doing that anytime soon.

"Can I ask you something?" She began, seeing him smile and nod, "What hap-" she stopped as he immediately threw his hand up to stop her as he spun to grab two slices of toast out from under the grill, seemingly getting them just in time.

"Sorry. Nearly forgot about these." He said, transferring the slices to plates before deliberately obscuring his next actions by putting his body between them.

She went to ask what he was up to but stopped as he turned back with two plates, each with two slices of toast smeared with butter and a thick brown substance that instantly made her smile.

"Damn, is that Marmite?" She asked, taking the plate and immediately biting off a large mouthful, smiling as the strong flavour hit her.

"Ah, good." He replied, dropping down on his chair. "I was worried this relationship was going to end up being completely untenable, but it seems my fears were baseless." He smiled, picking up a slice of his own. "You… you were about to ask something."

She swallowed and looked across at him as he took his first bite. "Yeah," she began, lowering her toast but not putting it down. "What happened yesterday, in Bristol? You… you weren't yourself last night. You were -- I don't know… distant, I guess."

She watched as he didn't chew before chewing quickly and swallowing hard. He didn't reply, instead placing his toast down and taking a sip of his entirely too hot drink.

"You don't have to tell me. I jus-"

"No. It's fine I just… I didn't mean to be on a downer and I'm sorry if I was-"

"No. No you weren't. You just, well, honestly I'd expected you to… you know, make an advance last night and you didn't." She suddenly realized how that sounded and immediately continued. "Not that you have to, you're not obligated to or anything, it just struck me as odd."

He smiled and gently raised his hand, shushing her. "No, no, I understand, I… Well things didn't exactly go as planned yesterday, as you guessed, and I ended up having to… I ended up killing someone. Again." She went to speak, to comfort him as she knew that feeling. That guilt. It didn't matter that it was a fight, that it was kill or be killed, the fact you had taken a life -- or another life -- still lingered, but he continued before she had the chance. "I know. It's stupid. We're fighting a war, and a dirty one at that, and here I am getting squeamish at-"

"No." She interrupted, dropping her toast and taking his hand in both of hers. "No, it's not stupid. It's natural. I don't think that anyone should ever get comfortable with that… If, if killing becomes easy, or guiltless, then I think that marks a person as beyond redemption." She paused holding his gaze for a moment. "We're probably, the both of us, going to witness and be responsible for more than our fair share of death before this is over and… and I want you to talk to me, if ever you need to, or want to, just talk to me about it. Okay?"

He smiled, his eyes catching the light in a way that made her core heat up. "Okay. I will." He nodded. "Now, get back to your Marmite before I think you're faking."

She laughed before withdrawing her hands and grabbing her toast. "What about Delphini?"

"Oh, she's already eaten."

Draining the last of her tea after consuming the final bite of toast, the flavour of the tea mingling deliciously with the marmite, she placed her cup down and swung off of the seat.

"We should get ready. We've got a meeting with the-" she stopped as Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her back, hauling her hand around his waist as his left gently took her shoulder. "Draco."

He leaned in and kissed her, her shoulders relaxing as she parted her lips and reciprocated. The kiss lasted for a brief time, far briefer than she'd like, and then he pulled away smiling at her.

"I love you." He said, sincerity holding his voice aloft.

She couldn't hold his gaze, her eyes sliding from his for a split second before she moved them back, embarrassed by how broad her smile was. "I love you too."

"I know. Just not sure why." He chuckled, letting go of her. "Come on. Let's get ready."

The next half an hour was spent by them getting washed, dressed, and sorting Delphini out. Before long they had dropped Delphini off with Irma and Argus and were sitting down at the table in the main tent, watching the others walk in and sit down.

"So, yesterday changes a few things." Lavender said, sitting down and casting a look around the table.

"You're telling us. Still got the scars to prove it." Oliver chuckled, glancing across at Draco and smiling. "Luckily we got the stuff, mind."

"Definitely." Poppy, leaned forward. "Those supplies will help, but won't last forever. We're going to need a new supplier… something more reliable to just robbing places."

"Well, I take it London is obviously out, and now Bristol. Is there anywhere else on our no go list?" Hermione asked, leaning forward.

"Hogsmeade. It's too close to Hogwarts, the MLEP presence there is too intense, and who knows what else is kicking about there." Pansy replied.

"So, we'll have to try smaller villages, places further from cities. The further from a proper population center the less likely we'll get caught." Hermione mused. 

"Draco!" Poppy exclaimed, causing Hermione to snap her head around to look at him.

He had just moved his hands from the edge of the table, probably subconsciously before intending to speak, but in so doing had revealed the pool of crimson that had amassed beneath his left forearm.

She stood up, swiftly, sending her chair clattering to the ground behind her as she grabbed his arm, a look of confusion on Draco's face as the rest of the table began reacting to something he had only just noticed and was struggling to process. She lifted his arm and pulled roughly on the sleeve of the white shirt he was wearing. The cuff ripped as she tore it free of the cufflink and hauled it back.

What she saw made her blood run cold. The dark mark on Draco's forearm was black, a far deeper black than she had ever seen it. It was coiling and shifting rhythmically -- sickeningly, and the fangs of the snake that made up the body of the mark were sunk into Draco's wrist, blood pouring steadily, and swiftly from the two puncture marks.

"What the fuck?!" She exclaimed, wiping at the blood, trying to grab the snake, hoping whatever had happened had made it tactile enough to grab… but it hadn't. The enchanted ink that made up the mark seemingly remaining as just that, though this ability to influence Draco's flesh horrified her.

She snatched up her wand, wiping the blood away again, seeing a look of fear falling into Draco's eyes. 

"Episkey!" She spat, the spell accomplishing nothing. She cleared her throat, and tried to steady her breathing before trying a different spell, but Poppy had rounded the table by then. She was shoulder barged aside by her old matron and watched as she took Draco's arm.

"Vulnera Sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur." Poppy spoke rhythmically, like a song.

Hermione moved around the table to watch and felt her heart best faster as the spell failed and the bleeding continued. "Try again!"

Poppy looked over at her, concern in her eyes though she tried to mask it. "Vulnera Sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur." 

The spell failed again.

"Help me." Poppy said, moving to lift him, to take him through one of the side ports to the area set aside as an infirmary. 

"I can walk." Draco protested, his mind still addled by the shock and only picking up on the fact he was being considered helpless.

"Very well, but quickly please." Poppy replied helping him to his feet, Hermione watching as she swiftly scanned over the alarming amount of blood.

"What is this Poppy?" Rolanda asked, moving to flank her.

"I've no clue, but I better find a way to stop it. Miss Granger, you can follow if you stay out of the way. Everyone else, give us some space. Oliver, could you fetch Ernest, Pansy… get Erica." Poppy replied, Hermione watching, mild panic beginning to settle in as Oliver and Pansy both nodded and scattered.

She followed Poppy in, taking up the flanking position that Rolanda vacated quickly once Poppy instructed her. "Rolanda, could you go and tell Argus what's happened… tell them- tell them I'll be… just tell them." She stammered, receiving a nod in response. She then turned and followed quickly behind, unable to not see the trail of blood behind Draco as he went, lowering himself down on the bed, keeping his arm off the side.

"Finite Incantatem." She heard Poppy say, before wincing. She likely thoroughly expected the spell to fail, but seeing it happen still annoyed her.

"Draco," Hermione said, trying to keep the concern from breaking her voice, "Has it felt odd at all, over the past few days? Itching burning?"

"No." He replied looking over at her. He was naturally pale, but what little colour he had she could see draining in front of her eyes. "Nothing like that, I would have noticed. I guess… I guess Voldemort no longer believes what my parents told him. He- he probably tortured it out of them." He continued, the concern he held for his parents, despite it all, evident in his voice.

"We don't know that. This- this might be some cruel way to stop you telling us what you know." She countered.

"I don't know anything. He knows that."

"That's enough, please. There'll be plenty of time to figure out what happened after we stop this. Ah, Ernest," Poppy interjected, shifting her gaze as Ernie stepped in, "we need-" 

"Blood replenishment potion. Oliver told me what happened, or at least a bit of it. What's going on?" Ernest interrupted, holding up a large heavy bottle filled with the blood red concoction.

"No idea. I've never seen this before. His mark, it's started bleeding him. We haven't had the chance to try much yet, but all the go-to spells failed. He's losing blood too quickly," Poppy explained, gesturing to the horrifying amount of blood pooling under the bed. "We need to get him hooked up to as much of that as we have, as quick as we can." She continued, Ernest already on the other side of the bed setting up a drip. Finding a vein on the other arm, he gently drove the needle in before fastening it and starting the drip.

"What's happe- in Merlin's name." Erica gasped, stepping in before sweeping over to grab a drip tray to place under Draco's crimson soaked arm.

"Scourgify." Hermione spoke, her wand outstretched, the worst of the blood soaking the floor vanishing into red mist that diffused into nothingness. "The Dark Lord. He's killing him."

"We won't let that happen. The blood replenishment potion buys us time." Poppy interrupted, "We need time."

"He doesn't have time!" Hermione spat, anger boiling up inside her, anger that once again someone she cared for was going to be taken from her. "Look at how quickly he's losing blood, I don't know how much potion you have, but I doubt it's enough."

"Miss Granger!" Poppy snapped, her voice firm and no-nonsense, a voice she hadn't heard since her days at Hogwarts. "I know you want to help, but right now Mister Malfoy needs your support," she continued, her voice softening, "your love… not your anger, not your worries. Please. We will solve this. We have enough potion to buy us some time. We won't waste it."

Hermione stopped, her gaze flicking to Draco, his weak smile and loving, but fearful, eyes causing a powerful wave of shame to wash through her. She wasn't one to fall to despair. She wasn't one to wallow in hopelessness. Yet that had been her first stop. The first place she had gone when her newfound happiness had been threatened. Had she really been beaten by Voldemort, by Umbridge, by the MRC? Had they actually managed to crush the fight out of her? Sure she'd be vocal about opposing them, and she'd done things behind the scenes, but that was with her and Draco's deception shielding her. Now that shield -- that protection was gone, and Draco's life was in danger, the first place her mind took her was fear and despair. Was that really who she was now?

She clenched her eyes closed and tightened her jaw before looking back at Pomfrey. "I'm sorry. I- I didn't mean that. I know you're trying, it's just… that's a lot of blood… in not a lot of time."

"It is. It's serious, we all know it, and I won't insult your intelligence by trying to convince you otherwise. But it is not hopeless." Poppy began, turning to look back at Draco, though Hermione noted that, politeness be damned, he didn't look at Poppy -- he never took his eyes off of her. "Between us," she continued, seeing the same thing Hermione had and turning her attention to the others in the room, "we will figure a way to stop this."

"Ferula." Erica said, stepping forward, her wand outstretched.

Hermione watched seeing as Poppy was about to state the obvious, that bandages would not help, but that she stopped herself as she saw what Hermione saw -- that Erica hadn't bandaged the wound, but rather bandaged above it, creating a tight tourniquet to cut off the circulation to the mark that was currently draining him.

"If that works, it'll also kill the arm." Ernie stated, moving to get an unobstructed view.

"Yes, I know, and I don't plan on leaving it there. But if it works, we at least have a last resort." She replied.

"What, amputation?" Hermione asked, shocked that they had gone there so quickly.

"Not now," Erica responded, fixing her with a compassionate glance, "But just in case. If it saves his life, and it comes to it."

"Well, if it comes to it…" Draco began, his face pale, and his eyes drooping, "I'd rather lose my arm than my life… even if it is my wankin' arm." He then started chuckling, Hermione unable to stop a brief smile tugging at her before her worry set back in. The blood loss was clearly draining his strength. 

"Ah, fuck!" He exclaimed, immediately trying to sit up before being overcome with dizziness and falling back. Twin jets of blood, far more pressurised than before, shot from the puncture wounds on his wrist. The serpent on his forearm writhed and flexed as if it was forcibly drawing the blood from him now, whatever spell that drove it clearly being powerful enough to force Draco's closed blood vessels open.

"Take it off. Take it off! He's bleeding out faster." Ernie spat, Poppy pulling the bandage free and unwrapping it from his arm, the flow of blood slowing and returning to what it had been before.

"In light of that," Poppy sighed, her robes now covered in blood, "I doubt amputation would work."

"What, why?" Hermione asked, her analytical mind firing up, seemingly to try and shield her emotions from the horrifying image before her.

"The Dark Mark. It isn't just a tattoo… it's a magical brand. As much a curse as it is anything else. Whatever spell is driving this is powerful. I doubt simply removing the arm-"

"Simply." Draco echoed, somewhat aghast at how removing a limb was a simple solution.

"Simply removing the arm will stop it from doing what it is designed to. The Dark Mark may appear as this manifestation," she continued, gesturing to the mark, "but it's more than that. I feel that removing the limb will just make the mark reappear elsewhere on the body." She concluded, before turning and playing her wand over the mark again, muttering and incantation under her breath that Hermione did not recognize. 

Nothing happened, and a look of annoyance flashed across Poppy's face.

"Here," Ernie said, grabbing a small vial she immediately recognized as essence dittany from the shelf and passing it over, "worth a try."

Poppy took the bottle, withdrew the pippet, and applied the liquid. Draco winced as the dittany fought briefly against the curse, only for the bleeding to continue.

"Right. Mister Malfoy has been poked and prodded enough. Nothing basic is going to work here, we need to think. Ernest, go and check your stores if you can. See what we have, the more powerful the better. Erica, go with him, help him catalogue. I- I'll pore through what books we have treating curses. Miss Granger," Poppy began, moving over and talking quietly to her as Draco glanced down at the unceasing flow of crimson dripping from his arm. "Try to keep him calm. Keep him happy, distracted. Try to keep his heart rate down."

She nodded, moving to head over before Poppy gently took her wrist and stopped her. "Try to relax, Hermione. I know it's difficult."

"I'll be okay. Sorry about before." She replied, extricating her arm and moving around to the far side of the bed so she could get close to him without getting covered in any more blood than she already was.

Poppy and the others stepped outside, evidently trusting her enough to monitor, and she looked down at him.

"You don't need to stay here." He began, his eyes weak and unfocused.

"Nonsense." She replied, smiling and taking his hand, careful to avoid the IV line Ernie had installed. "I wouldn't be anywhere else."

"Delphini needs you more than me, not that I'm complaining." He smiled, squeezing her hand, his grip notably weaker. It shocked her how much weaker he'd gotten in such a rapid amount of time.

She cast her eyes back toward the entrance, the opening now pulled to, to give them some privacy, but the trail of blood still there, though she assumed not for very much longer. The amount of blood still horrified her. If Ernie hadn't had the presence of mind to bring the potion… if Oliver hadn't been specific about what had happened, Draco could well be dead now, the amount he had lost.

"Delphini will be fine," she continued, forcing a smile and looking back, "besides, if keeping you company is what I need to do to save your wanking arm, then so be it." She smiled wider, seeing a smile pull at him.

"Eh, it's not my wanking arm. Was just trying to lighten the mood, seemed like a good idea at the time, given my- my partial exsanguination." 

She fixed him with a state and leaned closer, whispering. "I already know it isn't your wanking arm, but I'd rather you have both arms… for related reasons." 

"Well, keep that topic up and we won't have to worry about the blood going to my arm…" 

"Draco." She laughed lightly, smiling at him, before a cloud built again in her mind. "I feel useless. All the spells I know, all the magic I've studied, and I can't think of anything to help."

"I know what'll help."

"I'm sure you do." She smirked.

He slipped his hand from hers and put it behind her neck, pulling her down and kissing her.

"Sorry." She heard from the entrance to the infirmary, their kiss breaking as she looked up and across and Pansy and Lavender, Oliver and Rolanda peering over their shoulders. "Just wanted to check-in. Scourgify." She continued, drawing her wand and blasting the trail of blood to the bed into atoms.

"If it wasn't for Madame Pomfrey, another minute or two and I could have lost my arm; couldn't possibly do any homework for weeks." Draco replied without missing a beat, a broad smile pulling at Pansy as they were both dragged back to Draco's more melodramatic days at Hogwarts.

"Seriously…" She replied, fixing him with a bright, honestly caring stare.

"We don't know," Hermione began, their attention shifting, "It's a curse, that much is clear. Delivered through, or maybe just part of, the Dark Mark. We don't know. Nothing they've tried yet has worked, but Poppy still has hope, so…"

"Well that's good then," Rolanda replied, her voice as no-nonsense as ever. "Poppy is one of the most accomplished healers I've ever had the privilege of knowing. She'll figure it out."

"Exactly." Lavender, agreed. "And with Ernie and Erica helping her. I'm sure you'll be up and about in no time." Her cheerful disposition was intoxicating, but even still, Hermione couldn't help but dwell on the gnawing concerns in the back of her mind.

Those concerns consumed her thoughts for the next few hours, especially after Poppy's insistence, and Draco's, that she leave. Poppy concerned for Draco's well-being, him needing rest. While Draco was more concerned about Delphini. He had no concerns about her being with Argus and Irma… his concerns instead revolved around her having a sense of stability while she adjusted. He was insistent that one of them should be near her as often as possible, and as much as she wanted to stay by his side, she knew he was talking sense, and she knew how much Delphini's future meant to him.

So, she'd left his side, and gone to Delphini. She had no intention of leaving this entirely to others however… she couldn't. She couldn't just sit back and let the man she had only just come to love be taken from her. She started by asking Irma for a copy of every potion book she had, a relatively small collection as Ernest had most of them, but enough for her to find the information she sought. She'd then spent the next hours half playing with Delphini, mostly leaving the little girl to amuse herself, and instead crunched numbers. It wasn't until later, after the evening meal, that she was allowed back in to see Draco, and allowed to bring Delphini as well.

She hadn't needed inviting twice, and had immediately scooped Delphini up and headed straight for the main tent. Stepping in, and turning into the infirmary section, she pulled the flap aside and immediately saw Draco's eye fixed on her, a weak but warm smile on his face.

"Hey." He greeted them, trying to sound alert and unphased, but failing.

Given the time, and the application of the blood replenishment potion, he should have been feeling better despite the constant bleed. He wasn't. Which confirmed an assumption she had had hours earlier. Whatever this curse was was clearly draining his strength, as well as his blood. If his previous lethargy had only been due to the blood loss, then that would have been understandable, but would have improved by now… it seemed the curse was more cruel than it originally appeared.

The bleed had been contained now, an I.V line seemed to have been modified and affixed above the wounds, the line leading to a large glass bottle which was gradually filling with the deep crimson.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, stepping in and heading over, Delphini balanced on her hip, the look on Draco's face as he surveyed them causing her own heart to ache. She had fallen for him, so quickly and so completely that she knew it should feel strange -- but it didn't. It felt warm, and undeniably natural, and seeing the look in his eyes, she knew he was currently feeling exactly the same.

"Felt better." He chuckled dryly before looking at Delphini. "And how are you little-un?"

Delphini twisted and extended her arms, babbling as she did, Hermione stooping down to place her on the bed with him before stepping back and examining this chart.

The bottle had been placed there forty minutes ago. She looked down at it, checking the amount of crimson within it by the marking on the outside of the glass. From there it was easy to calculate the rate of his blood loss.

Realization hit her just as he spoke.

"Stop." He said, her looking up and across at him.

"What?"

"You're being analytical again," he smiled, his breathing strained slightly, though he continued to play with Delphini. Her straddling his waist, holding a finger in each hand and pseudo-dancing, "trying to solve everything. Just, just spend some time with me."

"But Draco-" she began, him smiling sadly, her stopping as she realized he already knew.

"Just… spend some time with me, yeah?"

She nodded, blinking back the tears that were welling in her eyes. "Of course, as much as I can." 

She got another hour in with him before he once again insisted she take her leave, stating that Delphini needed to sleep, and that there was no need for her to stay by his side while he was sleeping. She made to protest, but knew that he would stand his ground, especially because Delphini was involved. 

She leaned in and kissed him, his hand coming up to brush her hair back as she did.

"I'll see you in the morning." She said, standing back up and lifting Delphini.

"Well, I might be out for a jog, but if you wait long enough…" he smiled.

"Well, if you can fit me in." She smiled in reply, her heart aching at the reality of their situation.

"Don't forget your potion. Erica left it on the side for you."

She followed his gesture and snatched up the bottle.

"Good night. I love you." She said, her tears starting to roll as she turned, not wanting him to see.

"I love you too."

The evening was cool, though the central fire kept it from being unpleasant, and she covered the distance between the tents swiftly. Partly to get Delphini ready for bed, but mostly so she could cry in private.

"Hermione." She heard a voice from her behind her call out, a voice she knew to be Lavender. "Hermione do you- do you want some company?" 

She turned to see both Lavender and Pansy striding up behind her, one with a bottle, the other with a trio of glasses.

"I- I don't know." She began, the dam holding back her emotions cracking as she spoke the words. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do." 

She heaved as tears started falling from her eyes, down her cheeks. Pansy immediately thrusted the glasses into Lavender's hands and swept over to scoop Delphini out of her arms, a wise decision as Hermione instantly buckled forward, burying her face in her palms.

"Come on, let's get you in, and get some wine in you." Lavender insisted, guiding her toward her and Draco’s tent.

The tent was dark and cold, though Pansy remedied that in an instant, sending three whisps of high pitched fire into the log burner, before spiralling her wand to bring the bulbs and lanterns up to brightness.

Hermione turned and left them to get situated as she made straight for the bathroom. She washed her face, looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes red and raw. She sniffed, hard, then returned.

"Let me," she cleared her throat, hearing her voice crack atop her raw emotions, "let me get Del to bed."

"We can do that-"

"No. No, I'd like to. Draco he- he wants her to have some stability and, he's right. I'll do it."

Another hour passed before Delphini was finally asleep and Hermione moved back through to the living area. Lavender and Pansy were sitting, each with an untouched glass of wine and another for her. She padded over and dropped onto the couch, taking up her glass and downing half of it in a deep gulp.

"I don't know what to do." She finally said, clearing her throat again.

"I-" Lavender began, casting a brief glance over at Pansy, "I don't think there's anything you can do. We just need to… to wait. I'm sure Poppy, and Erica, and Ernest will figure something out. They've got time, they've got the potions to-"

"He's dying." Hermione interrupted flatly, assuming the facts were lost on the pair, that Poppy hadn't told them yet, as she hadn't told her.

"But the potion, it's-"

"Not working." She looked across at them. "It was a long time ago, Lav, that we did advanced alchemy and potions classes. I don't blame you for not knowing. But I checked," she began, pointing at the small pile of potions books sitting near the couch, "the Blood Replenishment potion… it accelerates the rate your body produces blood. It's great for remedying blood loss. But it can only do so much. He's… he's bleeding faster than the potion can work. Every hour, every minute, he's losing blood… even with the potion."

"Wait, how bad?" Pansy asked, sitting forward, the reality dawning on her.

"Even if they had an unlimited supply, which they don't, it wouldn't matter." She sniffed, attempting to clear her nose. "Unless they can slow the bleed… he's got three days, or thereabouts." She put the glass to her lips and downed the rest of it, immediately passing it over for Lavender to refill. "And from what I saw on his notes. The curse does something to his blood… taints it or something.” She continued, taking her glass back and wiping her sore eyes again. “They can't just put it back in."


End file.
